


Feels so Right

by kjdkmszyx



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past ChanChen, Past LuChen, Slow Burn, Smut, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, bffs xiuchenhanbaekyeol, childhood friends xiuchen, endgame xingdae, everyone loves jongdae, exes can be friends!, one sided sechen, past baekchen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjdkmszyx/pseuds/kjdkmszyx
Summary: For the most part, Jongdae’s friendships have stemmed from not-so-platonic relationships. Due to this, he makes it a goal to make a purely platonic one through a mentor program which aids Chinese exchange students settle into University life in Seoul.Only, Jongdae accomplishing said goal is made much more difficult when temptation surfaces in the form of a dimpled Chinese dance major, Zhang Yixing.





	1. Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic in years. Basically, it was a result of spending too many nights crying over how much I love Jongdae. So, I just put all my feelings for him on paper. This features a lot of Jongdae ships but the majority are past relationships :)  
> Jongdae and Yixing are the endgame pairing! My two biases!
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta [ Setty ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setty94) Without her, this would have never been possible.
> 
> Please enjoy :)

“You’re an ex-collector,” Minseok says, his calm and self-assured demeanour only adds to the sheer heaviness of the statement. He then punctuates it with a loud and obnoxious slurp of his iced americano.

“I'm a what!?” Jongdae, ever with the loud, travelling voice, manages to disrupt nearly half of the café, receiving glares full of disdain. He doesn't even look sheepish, all too used to being a disturber of peace. But for Minseok (read: Jongdae’s best friend, partner-in-crime, better half, roommate, and when Jongdae’s had too much to drink, Seokkie-poo), who is also used to it but always embarrassed, Jongdae makes an effort to try and tone it down. 

“I'm a what?!” He stage whispers and he's pretty sure everyone can still hear him but hey, it's the thought that counts.

Minseok rolls his eyes and takes another long, loud sip of his coffee, “You collect ex-boyfriends.”

“I do no such thi—” Jongdae begins to protest vehemently, outraged at the accusation...except he does. The realization dawns on him, eyes widening. “Holy shit, you're right.”

Minseok simply smiles hautighly. He always is.

It brings to light the fact that out of his four closest friends, he's slept with all of them (Minseok was a one-off, both of them having had way too much to drink at that one house party in high-school), he's dated two (Han was a very fulfilling friends with benefits situation that started as simple tutoring sessions. Jongdae had been miserably failing Mandarin I. In the end, he passed the class with an A and was getting laid on a daily basis, so basically a win-win for him). Baekhyun and Chanyeol were serious relationships, they lasted at least a year.

Somehow, along the way, Minseok and Jongdae became Minseok and Jongdae and Han, then Minseok and Jongdae and Han and Baekhyun, and so on and so forth. Now, thanks to Minseok’s blunt words, Jongdae realizes that instead of leaving his life, his ex-boyfriends (he and Han lasted a while so you can call him that anyway) or ex-lovers simply attached themselves to him and never got off.

He doesn't know what to do with the new information, so he does what he always does when he's troubled and asks his better half, “What’s that supposed to say about me?”

Minseok hums thoughtfully, biting into his typical morning croissant. His hand runs through his pretty lavender hair, making it look messier but simply adding to his good looks. “You can't have a friend without sleeping with them?”

It's unhelpful because: “None of them were my friends before I slept with them. The friendship thing came after. Except with you.”

Minseok and Jongdae had been friends since the ripe age of 9 and 7 respectively. It hadn't been a cliché meeting where Minseok had saved him from the older bullies in the playground or helped him with his boo-boo. No, Minseok was a little shit to him from the start, taking the last cheese crackers from the snack bin and refusing to give them to Jongdae even when he wailed at him, showcasing the impressive set of lungs that were given to him at birth. Jongdae, to get back at him, took to following the elder absolutely everywhere, even to the bathroom! It went on for weeks. 

On the day that Jongdae was sick and wasn't at school acting like his little shadow, Minseok found himself missing him a lot. The next morning, Minseok placed the last bag of cheese crackers in front of the younger. Jongdae absolutely beamed back, nose leaking snot and two front teeth missing, and just like that, he had solidified a place in Minseok’s heart.

Minseok can clearly see the panic on the other’s face, Jongdae’s matcha latte long forgotten and gone cold. He would have never brought up his little thought if it would have caused him so much distress. Yet he should have seen it coming, Jongdae has the ability to overthink anything, no matter how insignificant. “Maybe it means you're such a great person, that people want to stay friends with you even after you break up.” 

Jongdae offers him a small smile in thanks, Minseok’s foot pressing into his calf as a touch of comfort. It's the last they speak of it that morning, Jongdae chugging his cold latte in one shot as he realizes that he's about to be late for his morning class. He spares a few seconds to wrap his arms around Minseok, pressing an obnoxious wet kiss to the side of his face before sprinting out of the cafe.

The class is nearly full but there's a spot near the front right of the auditorium that Jongdae manages to snag before anyone else. He settles in his chair, removing his notebook and disgustingly pink go-to pen and placing them on the desk. Beside him, he notices is Kyungsoo, a member of the music club he's in and friends (or frenemies, he can never tell) with Chanyeol.

“Hey,” Jongdae offers him a genuine smile, “I didn't notice you were in this class.”

Kyungsoo would be intimidating if Jongdae hadn't seen how soft he looked on Saturday morning club meets, tiredly rubbing at his eyes with sweater paws. Maybe he is intimidating to others but the heart-shaped grin he sends Jongdae’s way is anything but, “I switched over to this section yesterday, I wanted my Friday afternoons free.”

Jongdae makes a small ‘ah’ of understanding but whatever he is going to say next is cut short by the teacher turning on the projector and beginning his lecture. Normally, Jongdae would be all for listening to the professor drone on about the relation between ‘Music and Film’ but his thoughts are utterly invaded by the subject of this morning’s conversation with Minseok. With three of his closest friends, they would have never even become as close as they are if they hadn't slept with him. Is that what he requires to make friends? Sex? Is he such a boring person that only once he's had sex with someone, they become a permanent resident in his life?

He lets out an almost inaudible pained sound which caused Kyungsoo to glance at him in concern. Jongdae simply smushes his cheek against the cool wood of the desk, arms coming to wrap around his head. He needs to get to the bottom of this, but not without wallowing in misery first.

Only when he hears the telltale shuffling of the students around him and the absence of the professors voice, does he lift his head. The stark white pages mock him and he groans when he realizes that he did not take a single note the whole lecture.

Kyungsoo, bless his soul, stays behind, watching Jongdae struggle, “You can borrow mine if you want.”

Jongdae jumps at the deep tone of the other’s voice then draws him into a hug of gratitude, “Thank you~ you’re the best!”

“Just give them back to me on Friday,” Kyungsoo leaves then, shoes making the slightest of sounds on the tiled floor.

Jongdae is lucky that Music and Film is his only class of the day. The rest of it is usually spent in his apartment or in one of the recording rooms. Today it's the former, Chanyeol sitting on the couch with Jongdae in his lap, his legs stretched out to cover the other cushions. Chanyeol runs his hand through Jongdae’s dark, soft hair, the other hand flailing about as the taller recounts the tragic story of how the bakery near their university ran out of his favourite muffins. Jongdae just stares at him in a daze, the position they're in reminding him so much of when they were dating just 11 months ago. The breakup was mutual and without many tears. There just didn't seem to be any romantic spark left between them. After a solid year, the infatuation died down and they realized that both of them were simply trying to keep alive something that was never really real to begin with.

“Hey! Hey Dae, are you listening to me?” A hand is waving anxiously across his field of vision and only then Jongdae realizes that he has spaced out completely, lost in the mess that is his thoughts.

“Sorry Yeol,” Jongdae manages to look embarrassed, “what were you saying?”

“It doesn't matter, what were you thinking about?”

Jongdae heaves a heavy sigh and sits up, turning his body towards Chanyeol. Chanyeol is slightly bewildered by the change in atmosphere but he simply waits for Jongdae to speak.

“Yeol, why are you my friend?” 

The question is so loaded and unexpected that Chanyeol sputters unattractively, “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean like do you think if we never dated or never had sex, would we have still become friends?” Jongdae is looking at the other so sincerely, so openly that it takes Chanyeol a few moments to answer.

“I mean, maybe not? Because the whole reason I approached you was because I wanted to get in your pants.”

And that seems like the wrong answer because Jongdae’s whole body seems to droop and his eyes shift to the floor, letting out a dejected ‘oh’.

Chanyeol quickly backtracks, panicked, “I’m just saying the reason behind us dating and then being friends is because I wanted to have sex with you! But, if let's say we were in the same class and we were paired up for a project, we could have still become friends!”

Jongdae looks up at him, almost trying to decipher the other’s sincerity, “But if we did get paired up or something, you'd have still wanted to fuck me no?”

Chanyeol understands where he's getting at, but it's not like that at all, “I’d still have sex with you now Jongdae. That's besides the point.”

“But it's not!” Jongdae almost yells, huffing, “It's not! Don't you get it?”

“Get what, Jongdae?”

“That people don't see me as someone they want to be friends with! They see me as their next fuck!”

Chanyeol sputters in absolute disbelief. He sees no relation in what he admitted to the conclusion Jongdae somehow came to. “What the fuck Dae? What are you even saying?”

“It's true, you,” Jongdae counts them off on his fingers, “Baekhyun and Han-ge, all of you started off by having sex with me. Our friendship only came after everything. Hell, maybe I'd still be with Han if he didn't happen to fall in love. Maybe I'm just not cut-out to have normal friendships…”

“What about Minseok hyung? You guys started off normally.”

“Probably ‘cause we met when I was 7 Yeol!” Jongdae flops onto the couch, hands covering his face in exasperation, “If I had met him later maybe we would have. Besides, I Still. Had. Sex. With. Him!!”

Jongdae’s shriek bounces off the walls and startles Minseok who is just coming into the shared dorm. He spots Chanyeol and Jongdae on the couch as he walks in, both in varying states of distress.

“You still had sex with who?” Minseok approaches the situation as one would a wounded animal. 

Jongdae drops his hands and sure enough, there are tears at the corner of his eyes. An accusing finger points at Minseok as he removes his shoes. “You! I still had sex with you!”

“Yes, you did,” Minseok amends, “what about it?”

“Hyung, Jongdae here is convinced that he's unable to form normal friendships,” Chanyeol explains after Jongdae doesn't answer, simply burying his face into one of the mismatched pillows they had bought at a garage sale this summer. Minseok’s heart drops, he really wishes he hadn't said anything this morning.

“It's true!” comes Jongdae’s protest, muffled by the fabric his mouth is pressed into. 

Shit, Minseok hadn't thought that his statement was going to be taken that seriously. He also hadn’t thought that Jongdae was going to go an absolutely unrelated tangent and subsequently drive himself crazy. Yet he should have known, Jongdae was notorious for these episodes, especially surrounded his social life, but it had never been to this extent.

“I'm getting Han and Baekhyun,” Minseok comes to the conclusion that said action would be the smartest. Chanyeol nods with understanding then attempts to console Jongdae even the slightest bit.

Minseok gets out his phone and texts said men: Intervention, Jongdae, asap. It was a thing they developed back when, due to Jongdae having sex with Han, the three became really close to one another, a tight-knit friendship. Han had fractured his ankle and had been put on a strict physical activity ban for three months after the cast was removed. Han, being the stubborn asshole he was, started practicing under their noses. Needless to say, when Jongdae found him sneaking out from under his arms one morning and followed him to the field, he had called Minseok and they staged an intervention that same evening. The practice still held strong, years later.

Han responds quickly with a: omw!

Baekhyun is slower to respond, taking another five minutes to send: give me 10 min :O

Soon enough, the five of them are in Minseok’s bedroom, Jongdae sitting on the edge of the bed between Han and Minseok. Baekhyun is wrapped around his frame, Jongdae’s back pressed to his chest. Baekhyun has his arms around Jongdae’s small waist, his hands clasped with the other, and his chin is perched on the younger’s shoulder. Chanyeol has pulled Minseok’s desk chair all the way over to the bed, observing Jongdae intently.

Jongdae is trembling so hard Baekhyun is shaking along with him. He can feel the attempt to console him in the way that the latter tightens around him, rocking him back and forth. It makes tears well up in his eyes yet he forces them away. He was never much of crier, can’t even remember the last time he did. 

Han is the first to speak, soft voice suddenly jarring the silence, “What’s going on?”

Jongdae is never good with people trying to comfort him, dislikes the attention. He likes taking care of others. Prefers the support when he seeks it out himself, so at the moment he feels like bolting. Yet he can't, because they all know him so why, because that's one of the reasons why Baekhyun is clinging like an overgrown koala, because that's why they are surrounding him. They know him. They know how he tends to avoid his problems until they build and build and build and he's left exhausted, broken, in the aftermath. 

And so he's stuck facing them head on. He hates it so he simply mutters a stubborn ‘nothing’ under his breath. Minseok gives him a pointed look. He's been dealing with Jongdae the longest so literally nothing gets by him.

Yet he's not the one that says: “Bullshit!” All eyes turn to Chanyeol and he looks dead serious, which hardly ever happens, “You look like you're about to start bawling your eyes out. So don't say that nothing's wrong.”

At that Jongdae simply sighs, the truth hurting, digging into his ribs, stabbing. The heel of his hands presses into his eyes, as if he could shove the tears back inside, stop them from forming at all. A breath fills his lungs, expanding, pressing his ribs into the inside of Baekhyun’s arms. On the exhales, he lowers his hands, brings his gaze to the hardwood floor. Mouth open, the words don't want to come. His mind is spinning round and round. Hundreds thoughts are speeding through his consciousness yet he can't seem to grab even the beginnings of one, he can't seem to voice something of substance, to let it touch the stagnant air.

Minseok takes pity on him and begins explaining to the three, “This morning, I brought up the fact that you are all Jongdae’s exes and he kinda flipped out.”

“That's not what happened! You called me an ex-boyfriend collector!” Jongdae whines in his own defence. All eyes are then on him, staring at him in amusement. Under their gazes, he shrinks but continues to expand on his account, “Then I realized that I would have never been friends with you if we never slept together…”

Han raises an eyebrow at this. He doesn't see the importance, “Does it really matter what made us become friends? I mean isn't the fact that we are friends what's really important?”

Everyone but Jongdae nods in assent. Chanyeol butts in, seeing the former’s lack of agreeance, “Dae, why are you so hung up on this? Do you think our friendships are lesser because they happened to start out that way?”

At that, Jongdae is quick to deny vehemently, “No, no, no! That's not what I at all. It's just…”

“Just?” Baekhyun prompts from behind him, breath caressing the sensitive expanse of the other’s neck, “Just what?”

“It's just that no one cares about making friends with me,” Jongdae sounds so small and his voice quivers with vulnerability, so much so, that their hearts ache. Immediately Baekhyun tightens his embrace, pulling the younger deeper into him, almost trying to become a protective shelter from those thoughts.

“That's not true Dae,” Han places a hand on his sweatpants clad thigh, squeezing. 

“But it is, I have no other friends than the ones who wanted to have sex with me.”

“What about Minseok hyung? You guys have been friends forever and you only had sex once!” Baekhyun, ever the positive one points out.

“Hyung’s an outlier. He doesn't count in my data,” Jongdae reiterates then turns in Baekhyun’s arms, returning his hug and burying his face into his chest. He then screams into the fabric of his t-shirt, “No one likes me!”

Baekhyun feels the vibrations through his body, the scream so loud even through layers of cotton. Long, slim fingers run through the other’s hair comfortingly, “Aww, don't say that Dae, you know we all love you.”

“Clearly we can't convince you otherwise, but how about trying to make friends with someone without turning it into something more than platonic?” Chanyeol looks so earnest in his suggestion when Jongdae finally raises his head from where it was comfortable nestled.

It is a pretty solid idea, so Jongdae readily agrees.


	2. Failed Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aka...Jongdae fucks up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so happy for all the positive reception so I’m posting this ahead of schedule! Just letting you know there’s a smut tag for a reason hahaha
> 
> Enjoy :)

It is decided that Jongdae try to befriend Kyungsoo. He had already shown kindness to Jongdae and they also had fri(enemies!)nds and Majors in common. He seemed like the best bet, they had a solid base to build the friendship on. The decision was not without protests though.

 

“How is everyone okay with this?!” Chanyeol shouts, “Kyungsoo is going to murder him, chop him up into pieces and then send a body part to each of us!!”

 

Jongdae is confused, “Kyungsoo is actually really nice? I mean he gave me his notes?”

 

Chanyeol is utterly shocked, “He did what!?” He leans forward and shakes Jongdae’s shoulders with intensity. “Did you ask for them?”

 

“No, he saw I didn't write any so he offered them to me.”

 

At that Chanyeol lets a pained noise, clawing at his hair and looking at the ceiling as if it could give him answers as to why Kyungsoo was nice to Jongdae.

 

It's Lu Han who answers rather than the ceiling. He has a dangerous glint in his eyes  and Jongdae is motioning for him to not say anything. Obviously, he doesn't listen, “Maybe it's just you Kyungsoo wants to dismember, not anyone else Chanyeol.”

 

Needless to say, they needed to console two people that night instead of the original one.

 

Jongdae is not late to class that Wednesday morning and he seats himself in the exact same spot as last time, only this time he puts his bag onto the seat beside him, saving it for Kyungsoo. Jongdae is humming along to the music thrumming in his ears when he sees said person enter, “Kyungsoo, come here!”

 

Kyungsoo is surprised that Jongdae saved him a seat and offers him a bright bashful smile.

 

“Thank you,” He says once he's settled.

 

Jongdae simply hands him back his notebook, “Thank _you_ , you really saved my ass.”

 

“I felt bad, you looked like you were having a bad day.”

 

“I was,” Jongdae sighs heavily.

 

“Do you want to maybe-” Kyungsoo pauses, hesitant. He doesn't want to push too many boundaries. They barely knew each other, “Would you like to talk? About it?”

 

“Honestly, thank you so much for the offer,” Jongdae feels so touched, a grin tugging at the corners of his already curled mouth, “but I'm kinda sick of talking about it. My friends kinda… forced it out of me I guess.”

 

“Well, you’re lucky you have people to help you out when you need.”

 

“Yeah, I really am,” Jongdae smiles brightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling at that. He knew it, how lucky he was to have the four of them behind him. Honestly he didn’t know what he would do without them.

 

The rest of the class passes as normal, Jongdae’s notebook filled with messy writing and diagrams in a pretty pastel pink. The two pack up their stuff and Jongdae speaks up, “How about I treat you to lunch sometime as a thank you for lending me your notes.”

 

“You don't have to-”

 

“But I want to,” Jongdae whines and Kyungsoo acquiesces.

 

Coincidently, they’re both on break so they order sandwiches and smoothies at that bakery Chanyeol likes. They make some small talk, hovering around safe easy topics but Kyungsoo’s easy to talk to and they share the same major so the subjects to breach are plentiful. To be honest, Jongdae understands where the rumours of Kyungsoo being intimidating and an asshole are coming from. He has a stoic looking face and doesn’t talk often. His attitude is absolutely no-bullshit and he says things straight up how they are. It can easily be interpreted as rude or arrogant, yet the more they talk, the more Jongdae realizes that Kyungsoo is just a quiet guy and he enjoys the rare silence since his own friends (and himself) are the rowdiest bunch he has ever encountered.

 

There’s just one thing that is nagging at Jongdae, “So why the hell is Chanyeol so afraid of you?”

 

Kyungsoo snorts and almost ends up with chilled smoothie up his nose, “Because once I told him if he didn’t shut up, I’d shove my pencil so far up his nose that he would need to get it surgically removed and I think the image traumatized him, cause he’s avoided directly talking to me ever since.”

 

And Jongdae bursts out into laughter so hard that the muscles of his stomach start to burn and tears prick at the corner of his eyes. When he’s no longer gasping for breath, he says, “That’s Chanyeol for you. He has the impression that you’re the literal spawn of satan.”

 

“Let him,” Kyungsoo says, a devious look on his face, “It’s entertaining to see him squirm.”

 

And as they say, rumours are always founded in a little truth and Kyungsoo just gained himself a spot on Jongdae’s (running) list of favourite people.

 

The week flies by much too quickly, Kyungsoo and Jongdae texting occasionally now that they have exchanged numbers. Well, honestly, it’s really just Jongdae sending a text and Kyungsoo responding four hours later so they never really get a solid conversation going. The only concrete exchange they manage to have is on the Saturday when Jongdae sends him a text about going to the ‘Welcome’ party tonight (They are already a month into the semester and there have been at least six other parties with the same name, so really nothing more than just a lame ass excuse to have another party).

 

Kyungsoo, for the first time ever, answers within 15 minutes: **Yeah, my roommate is forcing me to come**

 

Jongdae sends back a: **Dw! You’ll have fun, just come find me :)**

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t reply but it's to be expected. Jongdae puts his phone to charge before jumping in the shower. He washes his hair and body quickly as Minseok needs to shower too. He walks out, towel around his waist and yells out: “Seok, the shower’s all yours!”

 

He’s not surprised to see Baekhyun in his room, using his mirror to carefully line his eyes. Chanyeol is on his bed already dressed in a white t-shirt that emphasizes his impressive arms and shoulders and form fitting white wash jeans. Jongdae is guessing that Han is probably in Minseok’s room or in the living room on their console. Han’s style is basically what Jongdae likes to call ‘Sports Douchebag’, consisting of usually a full on tracksuit and sports shoes that cost two months rent. That being said, he doesn’t spend all too much time getting ready for parties save for spraying on some nice cologne and making his hair look slightly less messy.

 

It’s a tradition for all of them to show up at Jongdae and Minseok’s to get ready for any event. Their apartment is much more spacious than any dorm room so they could get primped with ease. Minseok’s parents are loaded so they bought him it as a gift for graduating high school that’s a ten minute drive from campus. Minseok offered Jongdae the second bedroom yet refused for Jongdae to pay any rent. Instead, they split the electricity, grocery and water bills.

 

Jongdae drops his towel, ignoring the wolf whistles thrown his way. It’s nothing the two haven’t seen anyway. He put one leg and then the other into the pair of _second_ tightest jeans he owns, needing to do a little shimmy dance to get it over his ass. Subconsciously he finds himself reaching for his favourite tank-top with huge arm holes that show a scandalous amount of skin but he stops himself.

 

 _No sex Jongdae,_ he tells himself, _absolutely no sex._

 

Instead, he pulls another tank-top over his head, one with much more conservative arm holes. Having known Baekhyun for a few years now, it’s a given that he picked up some of the elder’s unrivalled makeup skills. He’s nowhere near as good, and when he wants to embody all things sinful, he lets Baekhyun go to town on his face.

 

Jongdae is Baekhyun’s favourite canvas (“Your cheekbones Dae! You don't even need to _contour_ you asshole!”) but tonight he takes things into his own hands, carefully lining his eyes with black as pitch coal and smudging it out, giving his eyes a faded, smoked out effect. Then he highlights the slant of his cheekbones, gold shimmer catching the light and putting emphasis on the pronounced structure. Topping it all off with a lip tint that makes his lips look pouty and used, Jongdae deems himself ready, leaving his dark hair tastefully messy.

 

“Hurry up bitches or we’ll leave you behind!” Han yells out as he’s making his way out the door. Minseok, the designated driver, is already in the driver’s seat, his phone plugged into the aux. Han gets shotgun, like always. Chanyeol gets in the back, the space too small for his overly long limbs but he makes do. His head is a breadth away from the roof of the car.

 

Jongdae is at the door, impatiently tapping his foot. Baekhyun never fails to be the last one out the door. Just as Jongdae’s about to yell after him, Baekhyun is there and Jongdae locks up behind them. The two of them look at each other then burst into a sprint, elbows flying, neither of them wanting to be stuck in the middle next to Chanyeol and his wayward limbs. Out of all his friends, Baekhyun is the closest to him in size (Minseok and he share height but the rest of Minseok is chiseled and his biceps could crush Jongdae’s head. Baekhyun, on the other hand, simply looks a lot less intimidating with killers abs but his body doesn’t scream ‘ _I could squat four of you and that would only be my warm up’)_ and it would be refreshing if Baekhyun wasn’t a national Hapkido medalist. Not many people know of this and it's not obvious either, that is until Jongdae is bodily hauled over Baekhyun’s shoulder and thrown into the backseat like a sack of potatoes.

 

It’s a whole lot disorienting and he’s pretty sure he has whiplash but surely enough, he’s in the middle, squished between a bewildering Chanyeol and a smug Baekhyun.

 

Minseok sighs, “Baekhyun please stop throwing Jongdae around. He can't afford to pay any medical bills.”

 

The party is spread across two floors of a very expensive looking loft some rich kid rented out with his weekly allowance. The speakers must be state of the art because Jongdae can feel the bass reverberate through his body. The group is spread out now, Baekhyun having disappeared long ago, ever the social butterfly. Chanyeol left to say hi to some classmates that he spotted across the room. There’s a couple in the corner clearly too drunk to realize that there are rooms upstairs specifically for fucking. Someone is also throwing up into an artificial plant, the vase square and minimalistic.

 

“I need a drink!” Jongdae shouts to Minseok and Han over the music. He makes to stand from the couch he’s sitting on but Minseok puts out a hand to stop him in his tracks.

 

“I'll get it, sit down,” Minseok says not unkindly but there’s an underlying authority in his words that causes Jongdae to sink back down into the couch, “Han, you want anything?”

 

Minseok walks off to the kitchen to grab their drinks and Jongdae is left watching him go. A feeling of guilt burns in his gut because he _forgot_. He forgot that, ever since the incident during Jongdae’s freshman year, Minseok never allows anyone but himself to mix Jongdae’s drinks, only ever uses the tightly sealed bottles. If all were opened, he’d go out and buy something for him and if even that wasn’t possible, Jongdae was stuck drinking water and only water the rest of the night.

 

Han’s hand gripping and squeezing his thigh jolts him out of his rapidly spiraling thoughts. Jongdae looks up to see a look of concern on the other’s face, like he knows what Jongdae is thinking. His smaller hand comes on top of Han’s, intertwining their fingers and squeezing in reassurance, partnered with the tugging of one corner of his mouth into a half smile.

 

The moment is gone when Minseok returns, handing the two of them their drinks in cliche red cups. Jongdae hums in appreciation when he takes a sip, Minseok always did make the best beverages, alcoholic or not. The vodka burns pleasantly as it travels down his throat and it’s accompanied perfectly by the tartness of the orange juice.

 

A vibration in his pocket makes him jump, nearly spilling the Screwdriver all over himself. Small fingers dig into the pocket of his tight jeans to grab his phone. His screen is lit with a text message.

 

[11:07pm]

Kyungsoo :) :

Are you here?

 

[11:07pm]

Jongdae :D :

Yup!

living room on the 1st floor

[11:08pm]

Kyungsoo :) :

Meet me at 1st floor balcony?

[11:08pm]

Jongdae :D :

Coming!

 

Jongdae stands and both Minseok and Han look at him, “Kyungsoo texted me. I’m gonna go see him.”

 

Minseok nods, “Text me if anything.”

 

Han gives him a smarmy look but Jongdae sends one right back, pulling the other in a hug as a cover for whispering in his ear: “Just so you know, tequila makes hyung take his clothes off.”

 

Jongdae then saunters off, satisfied at the fact that Han is currently choking on his own spit, Minseok patting him on the back in concern but only succeeding in making Han grow even redder. Han has been nursing a crush on Minseok for a year now and Jongdae loves teasing him about it only because Minseok too has liked the other for even longer. They are both so oblivious it actually pains Jongdae to watch them yet he swore to both of them not to tell so he’s stuck watching them dance around each other. Han is easy to fluster so at least Jongdae gets some fun out of the situation.

 

The balcony is small, maybe only comfortably fitting four people. The sun has long gone down but there’s a little dim porch light that illuminates the area. It’s on the fifteenth floor so the view is spectacular, the Han river in the distance. Jongdae closes the door behind himself, the crazy hubbub muted the moment he does. Kyungsoo is on a two-seater outdoor couch.

 

“Hey,” Jongdae greets the other and Kyungsoo offers him pretty heart shaped smile in return.

 

“Hey yourself,” Kyungsoo scootches to make room for Jongdae and Jongdae takes the newly available place.

 

“Something tells me that parties aren’t your thing,” Jongdae comments, nursing his drink and crossing his legs comfortably.

 

“People in general aren’t my thing,” Kyungsoo snorts, “I like small get togethers and drinking with friends, not all this crazy bullshit.”

 

“How about we get out of here then?” Jongdae offers, a mischievous curl at the corner of his lips, “I’m sure we can snatch a bottle or maybe pick something up on the way?”

 

“Sure, why not?” Kyungsoo stands and Jongdae follows suit, chugging the rest of his drink, “I have beers in my fridge and we can watch something on netflix if you want.”

 

“Sounds perfect, let me just say bye to some people.”

 

Jongdae spots Han and Minseok on the dance floor literally and figuratively dancing around each other. The flush on Han’s cheeks and the slight sloppiness to his usually tight dance movements are clear indicators that he’s tipsy. He sneaks behind Minseok, catching Han’s eyes and putting a finger to his lips so he doesn’t alert Minseok. Arms wrap around Minseok’s waist and he jumps in fright before realizing who it is.

 

“Asshole,” Minseok says with no real hate behind the word, “One day I might hit you and you’ll regret doing that.”

 

“Sure, sure,” Jongdae dismisses his reprimand, “Anyways, Soo and I are heading back to his dorm.”

 

“Okay, have fun then.”

 

“We will.”

  
...  
  


Slim fingers thread through Jongdae’s hair, a guiding, not forceful, touch. Jongdae takes more of Kyungsoo down his throat, relishing in the tightening of said fingers, the slight pain blooming in his scalp. It’s been a while for him and it shows when Kyungsoo’s hips buck slightly and his gag reflex acts up as a result. The flexing of his hot tight throat around Kyungsoo’s cock draws out a deep moan from the younger.

 

“Fuck _Jongdae_ \- _”_ Kyungsoo’s voice breaks when Jongdae recovers and bobs his head, tongue pressing wetly on the underside on his way up. Jongdae pulls back to spit on his palm and takes Kyungsoo’s cock in his hand. He jerks him a few times, twisting on the upstroke, then puts his mouth back on him, sucking on the ever-so-sensitive head. A rhythm builds, Jongdae sucking him off sloppily, hand covering whatever he can’t take. Kyungsoo is a nice weight on his tongue, and Jongdae relishes in the way the former’s toned stomach is clenched in pleasure; heavy pants and wet _lewd_ sounds fill the silence of the space.

 

Jongdae’s own erection is straining in his jeans and he brings down his unoccupied hand to press the heel of his palm against it. The pressure draws a groan from his throat, Kyungsoo echoing it with his own louder one as the vibrations only add to the tightening knot in his gut.

 

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo stops Jongdae short, pulling his mouth off of him. Jongdae sends him a questioning look and Kyungsoo nearly cums right then and there. Jongdae looks obscene, his dark hair dishevelled, eyeliner slightly smudged and mouth swollen and red. There’s drool trailing down his chin and Kyungsoo swiftly tugs him upwards into his lap, licking into his mouth and devouring the surprised sound that leaves it.

 

His hands slide from his rib cage to his waist before palming over his ass and squeezing. Jongdae shudders against him and Kyungsoo wants his clothes off. Flipping them over, he takes the zipper of Jongdae’s jeans and pulls it down. Jongdae tilts his hips to aid Kyungsoo in the struggle of pulling off his too-tight jeans. Kyungsoo finally tugs them off the others foot, throwing them to floor. The sight of Jongdae hard in his boxers, precum causing a wet spot in the grey fabric, shoots a burning need through Kyungsoo’s veins. He grabs Jongdae by his thighs and tugs him closer, sucking the tip through the fabric.

 

Jongdae throws his head back at the sudden sensation, a melodic moan falling from his throat, “Kyungsoo please,” his voice is wobbly from the teasing as Kyungsoo continues to trail his tongue along the head, Jongdae’s thighs trembling beneath his palms.

 

Kyungsoo would like to maybe make him cum just from that, muffled sucks and licks, just shy from enough but when drawn out over a long enough period, a shuddering slow burning climax is the result. He shelves the idea for another time and pulls the wet boxers from Jongdae’s narrow hips. He digs beneath the pillow under Jongdae’s head, pulling out a bottle of lube he used just yesterday during a solo sesh but forgot to put away.

 

“How far do you want to go?” Kyungsoo hovers over Jongdae, eyes wide in questioning. Jongdae quirks a smile at his sincere gaze then wraps his arms around his neck to press a kiss to his swollen lips. Jongdae interlocks his ankles around Kyungsoo, dragging him closer as he maps the curve of his teeth. Kyungsoo reciprocates in kind, grinding forward and breath hitching at the brush of their erections.

 

Jongdae cants his hips, feels Kyungsoo’s cock, still wet with his spit, against his own. A hand crawls up his shirt, feeling the toned topography of his torso, teasing down the trail of hair and stopping just short of his aching erection. Instead, fingers burn his skin and brush the ribs that strain against his on every tremulous inhale. Kyungsoo cupping his side, a thumb brushes his nipple and nothing could stop the full body shudder that crawls through him.

 

“Jesus,” Jongdae gasps when he does it again, thighs tensing to feel the toe-curling grind of their bodies together again. Kyungsoo’s other hand comes to his hip, stopping him in his tracks.

 

Thumb tracing Jongdae’s hipbone, Kyungsoo asks again, breath cool against his wet lips, “Tell me what you want Jongdae.”

 

Kyungsoo’s voice has taken on a gravelly tone that makes shivers rush down his spine. Jongdae’s head spins with all the possibilities. The image of being pressed into the mattress tattoos itself to the back of eyelids.

 

“Fuck me,” Jongdae seizes Kyungsoo’s gaze, eyes dark and screaming with want, “I want you to fuck me.”

 

Kyungsoo nods, not trusting his voice at the moment. He detaches his hands from Jongdae’s lithe frame and reaches for the lube next to them. He clicks open the cap and drips a generous amount on two of his fingers. His mouth and tongue explore the blunt of Jongdae’s jawline, tasting the salt on his skin and sucking pretty bruises into his soft skin. Meanwhile, his lubed fingers brush against Jongdae’s inner thigh, the latter tensing in surprise.

 

He preps Jongdae like that: two fingers fucking into him and curling into his prostate as he everytime he retracts. Jongdae is louder now, the pleasure so much he feels it in the tips of his fingers, all whines and lilting gasps. His neck is a pretty little masterpiece, slick with saliva and bruises along the dip in his collarbone, on the slant of his shoulder. Kyungsoo sucks another beside his bellybutton, enjoying the way he feels the muscles tense beneath his mouth. His chin bumps into Jongdae’s cock. It’s flushed prettily, leaking precum onto his stomach, precum which Kyungsoo hungrily laps up before dipping his tongue into the slit of Jongdae’s cock to taste it from the source.

 

“Kyungsoo _,”_ Jongdae whines out, hips chasing the other’s fleeting tongue but he’s pressed down into the mattress, and then teeth sink into the inside of his thigh and he’s whining for other reasons, “ _Kyungsoo!”_

 

Jongdae enjoys the pain radiating in his thigh but he would enjoy it much more if Kyungsoo was in him, “Kyu-” and fingers are massaging directly into his prostate with no reprieve. Mouth open in a silent moan, Jongdae arches his spine, unsure if he wants to give in to the feeling or back away from the intensity. His inhales and subsequent exhales grow closer and closer together, wave after wave of liquid pleasure thrumming in his veins. He’s gonna cum, there’s a  telltale coiling of heat in the pit of his stomach and it would be so easy to allow it to build and swallow him up, but he doesn’t want to, not like this.

 

“Stop,” god-his voice sounds so wrecked already. Jongdae gathers all the willpower in his body to sit up and grab Kyungsoo’s wrist, “Stop and just fuck me.”

 

Kyungsoo looks at Jongdae, who’s firm and demanding despite being so pliant before. He always liked someone who knew what they wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. Who was he to deny him anyway?

 

“Okay, get on your hands and knees.”

 

The triumphant look that passes over Jongdae’s face makes Kyungsoo crack a smile. He has an unopened pack of condoms in his drawer and he stands to get them. His fingers stop short of tearing the foil open when he sees Jongdae positioned on his bed. Kyungsoo was never one to buy into rumours but seeing Jongdae’s ass like that, the plumpness accentuated by the curve of his spine and the narrowness of his waist, makes him realizes that it wasn’t exactly a rumour that Jongdae had the nicest ass on campus. Jongdae is all smooth skin and toned muscles and it makes Kyungsoo ache with need.

 

“Are you gonna just stand there? My ass isn’t gonna fuck itself,” Jongdae, it turns out, is also the best (or the worst) combination of haughty and snarky which makes Kyungsoo wonder what it will take to make him shut up.

 

“You know I can just leave?” Kyungsoo doesn’t resist the opportunity to bite back.

 

“Leave then,” Jongdae shrugs, now having shifted his weight to sit on his heels, “but I know you’ll have more fun with me than with your hand.”

 

Kyungsoo really can’t argue with that and it has been a while for him, his naturally introverted personality not exactly making people flock to him. Plus there’s the fact that Jongdae is pretty much the embodiment of his type. He’d be an idiot to let this chance get away from him. The smug smile on Jongdae’s face grows with every moment that Kyungsoo spends deliberating.

 

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo tells him, finally opening the foil. Jongdae takes it from his hands and rolls it down the other’s cock, pumping him a few times.

 

“I didn’t say anything,” Jongdae singsongs as Kyungsoo’s breath hitches from the attention he’s receiving. His hard-on is practically screaming at him and he figures that he needs to stop wasting time. Jongdae is a step ahead of him generously smoothing the lube onto him before wiping his hands on the bedding and returning to his previous position.

 

 _Oh-this angle is so much better_ , Kyungsoo thinks, runs his hands appreciatively down Jongdae’s spine, pressing a thumb into the dimple in his lower back and fingers curling around his hip. The tightening of the hand gripping him is the only warning Jongdae gets before he’s being filled so, so slowly. Kyungsoo inches his way into the tight heat, pushing forward and with it, the breath from Jongdae’s lungs. Twisting the bed sheets in his fists, Jongdae rocks back along with him until his ass rests against Kyungsoo’s hips.

 

Jongdae feels so _full_ and it burns in the nicest of ways. Heart pounding in his ears, he barely hears Kyungsoo asking for the ok to move. In response, he nods a beat too late and every other coherent thought is torn from his mind when Kyungsoo pulls out. The drag of Kyungsoo’s cock against his walls is so slow that it makes Jongdae shudder, muscles of his abdomen clenching so very tightly. Then, in juxtaposition, Kyungsoo drives his hips hard, surprising Jongdae and pushing him up the bed.

 

The pace is brutal from then on, Kyungsoo’s hip bones bruising the back of Jongdae’s thighs. The younger’s brow is furrowed in pleasure, the tight heat of Jongdae’s body absolutely maddening. His body feels alive, every nerve ending singing with unbridled pleasure. Jongdae is gasping before him, hands twisted into the sheets. Kyungsoo can see the tenseness in Jongdae’s shoulders. He wants to see him fall apart, wants to see him drowning in the intensity of it.

 

The need causes him to bring press a hand between Jongdae’s shoulder blades, pushing his chest into the mattress. The move results in a dramatic arch in Jongdae’s spine, angle so perfect that, on the next thrust, he hits something in Jongdae that has him choking on a cry.

 

“There— _there, Kyungsoo please_ ,” Jongdae begs, forehead resting on his forearm, hands gripping the sheets, needing something to anchor himself before he gets swept away by the nearly painful wave of pleasure that rips through him. Kyungsoo doesn’t disappoint, keeps hitting his sweet spot and Jongdae can barely breathe. He has no reprieve, every inhale or exhale interrupted by a rough thrust that makes him keen. Kyungsoo is groaning from behind him and it only adds to the searing in his veins.

 

Then Kyungsoo stops pressing down and snakes a hand around Jongdae’s erection which is causing a wet patch in the bedding. The stimulation is so sudden that Jongdae shouts, dual sensations overriding his already lit nerves.

 

“So good—it's so good,” Jongdae is babbling now, so far gone that the praise is just falling from his tongue, “Come on, come on, please, faster.”

 

Kyungsoo isn’t sure what Jongdae wants sped up, his hand or his hips, but decides to do both and really that’s all it takes; Jongdae tenses every muscle in his body as the coil in his stomach tightens, tightens, _tightens_ , until he’s spilling into Kyungsoo’s palm with a choked whimper. Kyungsoo fucks him through the aftershocks wracking his small body, pressing kisses to his shoulder.

 

Jongdae slumps down into the mattress, utterly boneless. Kyungsoo removes his soiled hand and uses it to grip onto Jongdae's hips. He has to press into the skin there to keep it from sliding, skin slick with cum, as he punches groans from Jongdae's throat. The sight of the other so debauched below him, back arched, chest expanding with harsh breaths, is enough to send him over the edge. The moan Kyungsoo lets out reverberates through the other's body, punctuated by an impossibly deep thrust and the heat of him filling the condom.

  
Kyungsoo pulls out and Jongdae whines at the loss, the former simply runs a soothing hand down his side and murmurs a quick 'I'll be right back'. Jongdae stays in place as any movement might dirty the sheets to the point that they can't be slept on. It's hard to keep on his hands and knees, limbs feeling wobbly but he doesn't wait for long as Kyungsoo is returning with a wet towel. Once he deems Jongdae clean enough, he manhandles him under the covers. Jongdae falls asleep with his nose buried in the crook of the other's neck. 


	3. Let’s go Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongdae gets a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and comments! They mean so much to me

The next morning has Jongdae stretching awake, making a pleased sound at the popping of limbs. There's an underlying soreness in his ass, a throb around his hips and that's when everything comes back to him. He slept with Kyungsoo. He SLEPT with Kyungsoo!? 

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

Not even a week and he ruined everything. Things were going so well too.

 

Jongdae wants to curl back under the covers in shame but this isn't his bed so he reluctantly pulls himself out of it. He rummages through Kyungsoo's clothes, hoping he wouldn't mind him borrowing some, his dick was up his ass so there had to be fewer boundaries between them now. Luckily they are pretty much the same size, the jogging pants slightly too tight on the ass and a little looser on his thighs but comfortable nonetheless. The shirt tugs at his shoulders, Kyungsoo having narrower ones yet he's deceptively strong. He definitely had no trouble tossing Jongdae around last night at least.    
  
Jongdae steps into the kitchen where Kyungsoo is cooking something on the stove. By the savoury smell and the violent sizzling, it seems to be bacon.   
  
"Holy shit Soo," Jongdae exclaims in excitement. Said man startles, but simply turns to smile at seeing the former, "I can't believe you're making me breakfast! Fuck, I can suck your dick right now."   
  
Kyungsoo chuckles wholeheartedly then gives him a loaded gaze, "I'd gladly take you up on that offer but I'd rather not burn down the dorm."   
  
Jongdae's not discouraged in the least, sitting himself on the empty counter and shrugging, "Later then."   
  
Sehun awakens to a pounding behind his eyes and the urge to stay in his bed for the rest of the day. Yet the scent of breakfast is too tantalizing to ignore so it's only with slight reluctance that he makes his way to the kitchen.    
  
"Kyungsoo hyung, you promised you would stay this time!" Sehun complains to his roommate, scratching tiredly at his bare stomach. "Don't tell me you left the party early to study or som—"   
  
Sehun stops short when he sees Jongdae atop the counter, legs swinging back and forth as he watches Kyungsoo make the eggs. Kim Jongdae is in his dorm right now. The Kim Jongdae, every freshman's wet dream, is in his kitchen in (Kyungsoo's!) clothes. With very noticeable hickies that travel along column of his throat, practically yelling the exact reason as to why he's IN HIS KITCHEN.   
  
Both turn to the voice and Jongdae greets him with curled smile, "Hey Sehun-ah."   
  
Sehun tries to say 'hi' but he's pretty it comes out as a squeak. Kyungsoo saves him from further embarrassment, cutting in, while plating the eggs and bacon, "How do you like your toast, Jongdae?"    
  
"Burnt."   
  
Kyungsoo shoots him a disgusted look, "You have weird taste." He puts the slices in the toaster, putting Jongdae's settings on high and his own on low.    
  
Jongdae simply shrugs and changes the subject, "I didn't know you guys were roommates."   
  
"I didn't even know that you know Sehun," Kyungsoo responds back. By now Sehun has gotten over his initial shock and decided to shed a little light on the situation. "Jongdae hyung helped me out when I got lost the first day here."   
  
Sehun is a freshman and the semester is only on its fourth week. Clearly, the campus being ginormous, he didn't exactly know his way around. He, in fact, had gotten so lost and had been fumbling about with the look of utter stress on his face when Jongdae had found him. The elder had walked him to his class and gave him his number in case he ever needed him. When he had told other members of the dance crew about it, they all screamed in jealousy. 

 

Jongdae is considered to be the resident heartthrob with his perfect body and snarky yet somehow incredibly sweet personality. He was unattainable, either dating Chanyeol, or when he was single, Minseok lurked at his side, there to kill anyone who tried anything that he deemed inappropriate. Minseok, too, has a reputation. His was much less positive, known as the guy who punched out anyone who threatened Jongdae. The martial arts belts he has only increased the fear factor. Yet, to have gotten Jongdae's number (even though it wasn't for the reasons he wanted), as a freshman, was the highest achievement.    
  
"Soo," Jongdae nudges said man playfully and gestures towards Sehun, "You should have seen him, he looked like he was about to cry."   
  
"Shut up," Sehun grumbles as he shovels the food into his mouth.   
  
Jongdae follows suit and it's one of the best breakfasts he's had in his life. The eggs are perfect, fluffy and so cheesy and when accompanied by the bacon, it's akin to heaven. Jongdae moans indecently, "Fuck Soo, I'm totally sucking you off after this."   
  
Sehun promptly projectile spits his chewed up food all over the table.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jongdae does his walk of shame without any actual shame. The sex was so good that he would actually skip home if his ass didn't hurt every second step. It's with this enthusiasm that he walks into his apartment. He knows Minseok has a shift at the cafe right now yet he's completely unsurprised to find Han in front of their flatscreen, abusing of their console.    
  
"Sup Dae," Han greets, not once tearing his eyes off his character that's currently engaged in a very important boss battle. Jongdae parrots the greeting, making his way to the shower. He drops his and Kyungsoo's clothes into the dirty laundry hamper and plays with the settings of the shower, letting it run until it's burning hot. His reflection blinks back at him and he looks thoroughly debauched, deep bruises cluttering his collarbone and inner thighs. His hair is in an absolute disarray, eyeliner smudged more than intended. Honestly speaking, he feels more debauched then he looks. The phantom grip around his hips making itself known with a telltale ache. A similar ache in the inside of his thighs, the back of his throat.    
  
The heat of the shower relaxes him a bit, a sigh falling from his lips as he scrubs away at what the wet towel couldn't get the night before. The dried slick of sweat and sex is carried away by the suds of body wash. He shampoos and conditions, lingering under the fall of water for longer than usual before stepping out, pale skin a bright pink from heat.   
  
After towel drying, he leaves to his room to grab clothes, naked as the day he was born. It didn't really matter if someone saw, anyone who would be here had already seen him naked multiple times and Jongdae isn't one to be shy about his body.   
  
He's not expecting Han to let out an impressed whistle upon spotting him, "Someone had a fun night!"   
  
It's that reminder that causes Jongdae to groan in frustration, continuing his way to his room. Han follows him and sits on the bed as the other dresses, "So...what happened to not have sex with Kyungsoo?"    
  
"I don't know!" Jongdae flops onto the bed, face first, in sheer exasperation. He flails around a little, bringing his fists down onto his bedding before finally turning over to face Han's amused face, "Everything was fine. We were watching that cooking show with the angry guy. Then we took shots and then more shots and then I was in his lap and then I was in his room and then  _ fuck _ !!"   
  
"You know you fucked up the moment you started drinking too much," Han points out and Jongdae's next groan is strangled because he knows! He knows that on top of being the Biggest Lightweight™, he was also a horny drunk (also occasionally a sad drunk during certain situations and on the absolute worst of occasions he was a horny-sad drunk). Which is why he tries to limit himself to a certain amount of drinks a night, and clearly, he hit his quota and surpassed it that night.   
  
"Ge what do I do?" Jongdae sounds pathetic and it's that that makes Han pull him into his arms. He knows arguing against Jongdae would be useless, when Jongdae had something in mind he, himself, was the only one who could convince him otherwise.    
  
"Try again," Han says," Actually I didn't just come here to mooch off your PS4, I actually want to ask you if you'd be willing to be a guide for some Chinese-exchange students that are coming in on Monday."   
  
Han is part of the Chinese Exchange Student Adaptability Committee or CESAC for short. In short, they aided said students on exchanges in adapting to life in Seoul. They provided language classes, translators, mentorships etc.. Han is the vice-president, having moved to Seoul in high-school, he perfected the language and could empathize with the struggle of getting settled.    
  
Jongdae is a good candidate for a guide as he was nearly fluent in spoken Mandarin and passable in reading (thanks to a year abroad in Beijing in senior year and Han's top-of-the-line tutoring methods) if maybe a tad rusty from lack of practice. "Did you ask Minseok-hyung, too?"   
  
Minseok also spent a year in china as it was offered to them by their high-school.   
  
"No, I figured he was too busy," is Han's reply and he's not wrong. Minseok has to be the busiest guy he knows, only Han possibly competing with him. He's in his last year as a Law student and he's absolutely up to his neck in assignments and internship. On top of that, he's the vice-captain of their soccer team (the captain being Han) and somehow, with all that going on, he finds a way to squeeze in daily sessions at the gym.   
  
Jongdae makes a noise of agreement; Minseok really didn't need anything else on his plate, "Who would I be paired up with?"   
  
Han smiles brightly and squeezes Jongdae a little tighter, grateful, "His name is Zhang Yixing. He's a third year and you both have the same minor so I thought you'd be a good fit."   
  
Jongdae majored in Music (specialized in Vocal performance) with a minor in composition. He smiles, all giddy, he loves meeting others in the same program. He couldn't wait.   
  


* * *

  
  


Monday morning found him up at 6 am, a lot less excited before. When he had agreed to help Han, he hadn't expected to have to meet up (before) classes actually started. Maybe he should have reconsidered. It's too late to back out anyways, Jongdae tells himself.    
  
"Thanks hyung," Jongdae says, leaning over the console to give the other his usual goodbye in the greeting of a kiss to the cheek. Thank god Minseok is up early enough to drive him or else he would have had to wake up even earlier to take the bus as he can't drive for shit.    
  
After Minseok drives off, Jongdae walks up the path towards the main building. Slim thighs clad in comfortable grey joggers bring him to a lounge room is said building. The heat from his matcha latte, courtesy of Minseok hyung (again, Jongdae could write an ode of love to the man), seeps into his palm and he smiles when he spots Han sitting with four others, three unfamiliar, one an acquaintance.   
  
"Jongdae! You made it!" Somehow Han never fails to be energetic at ass-o'clock in the morning. It makes Jongdae grimace into his cup. All attention is now on him thanks to the other. He takes the spot Han saved him and smiles shyly at everyone.   
  
"Guys, this is Jongdae," Han begins and Jongdae receives a collection of 'heys' and little waves in return, "Jongdae this is Yifan," he gestures the one directly in front of him. Yifan has intimidating eyebrows and a small mouth. Compared to everyone else, he looks pretty tall maybe even more so than Chanyeol.   
  
"Hi," Jongdae offers and Yifan parrots it back, his voice a deep baritone.   
  
"Next to him is Zitao." Zitao is, for lack of better words, scary as fuck. With black as pitch hair and eyes that look like he hasn't sleep in days, he exudes an aura that screams 'don't mess with me'. An impressive array of earrings are pierced along the curve of his ear and Jongdae is impressed.   
  
" _ I like your piercings _ ," Jongdae comments in lightly accented mandarin and the smile he gets back absolutely shatters his previous impression of the other. Zitao smiles as if he gave him the answer to all of this years finals.   
  
" _ Thank you _ ," Zitao replies, " _ I like yours too _ ," referring to the industrial piercing in Jongdae's left ear and the three studs in his right ear lobe.   
  
The last unknown person (who he guesses is Yixing), grins at the exchange. The dimple that appears in his right cheek makes Jongdae's heart stop right in his chest.    
  
"And I'm Yixing," Yixing beats Han to the punch and introduces himself. Yixing is so fucking gorgeous with his pretty pink lips and a jawline chiseled by the gods.   
  
"Hi," Jongdae's voice catches and he clears his throat, hoping that his face isn't as red as it feels, "Hi."   
  
"Now that that's out of the way, I'm pairing you up with your guide," Han begins gleefully.    
  
Jongdae wants to throw his drink in his face for being so cheerful. It's too damn early for this.   
  
"Yifan, it's your lucky day," Han says, "You're with me!"   
  
"Good luck," Jongdae stage whispers to Yifan whose mouth stretches into a grin at him, "He's a handful."   
  
Then there's an elbow jabbing into his ribs and Jongdae gasps, "Ge, you asshole!"   
  
Unphased, Han continues on, "Zitao, you're with Jackson and Yixing, unfortunately, you're stuck with Jongdae."   
  
Jongdae lunges at the elder, attempting to put him into a headlock. Sadly, Han has always been the stronger of the two and he easily subdues the younger, keeping him at arm’s length.   
  
"I don't think that's unfortunate at all," Yixing comments slyly, an unreadable smirk on his face. And if Jongdae wasn't blushing before he sure is now.   
  
They separate into their designated pairs and Jongdae discreetly wipes his sweaty palms on his pants. Yixing is the one that breaks the short silence. His voice is soft, light, with an obvious accent, "So your name is Jongdae yet you speak mandarin?"   
  
"Yeah, I went on exchange in high-school," Jongdae explains and Yixing seems so open and sweet that he calms a little, "Han-ge also tutored me then."   
  
Yixing is interested in that, "Are you two close?"   
  
"For sure," Jongdae settles a little more comfortably in his seat and sends a little glance Han's way. The latter is talking animatedly to Yifan, wild hand gestures and all. Yixing watches a fond look take over Jongdae's features.   
  
"He's one of my best friends," Jongdae concludes, taking a sip from his lukewarm latte, "He also told me that we have the same minor."   
  
"We do?" Yixing is surprised at this, "You compose?"   
  
"Yeah," Jongdae says, the nodding of his head emphasizing his words, "I do from time to time."   
  
"What's your major then?" Yixing's eyes are sparkling with curiosity and he leans closer to Jongdae, giving him all of his attention.   
  
Jongdae feels flustered by the interested gaze on him. Teeth tug at his lower lip for a moment before he let's it fall, "Music with vocal specialization."   
  
Yixing leans back, eyes appreciating Jongdae from head to toe, "Yeah I can see that."    
  
The tone is teasing and it makes the tips of Jongdae's ear go pink, "What do you mean?"   
  
"It means that you look like a vocalist."    
  
"You're fucking with me," Jongdae raises a brow and fuck if it isn't one of the hottest things Yixing has ever seen.   
  
"I am," Yixing admits, letting out an amused laugh. Jongdae shoves at his shoulder and if the word he mutters under his breath sounds a little bit like 'asshole', he's never tell.    
  
His reaction makes Yixing laugh even harder, shoulders shaking, "No but seriously, that's so cool. I'd love to hear you sing one day."   
  
"Maybe one day," Jongdae smiles bashfully and goes to take another sip of his cup only to find it empty; disappointment tugs at his features, "Anyways what's yours?"   
  
"Dance," Yixing offers and it makes Jongdae's thoughts go on a downward spiral. Images of Yixing moving his body, hips powerfully gyrating, sweat collected in the fabric of his shirt, make Jongdae gulp.   
  
He recovers quickly, "Ah, that's so cool. I have a friend who's a first year."   
  
"I'm happy you think so. Do you like dancing?"   
  
And sure, he does like dancing but only after four solid shots of straight-up vodka or in his living room with Minseok on those wretched cleaning days the elder forces him into. Jongdae opens his mouth to answer but is rudely interrupted.   
  
"Jongdae? Dancing?" Han slings his arm around Jongdae's narrow shoulders and Jongdae can feel the laughs rattling his body. He says those words like they are the most incredulous thing he ever heard, "Please, he can't dance to save his life."   
  
Jongdae roughly shrugs Han off of him, "Suck my dick," he grumbles.   
  
"Name me a time and a place," Han retaliates and Jongdae does end up throwing his drink in the other's face, the (empty) cup hitting the other square in the nose with a satisfying thunk.    
  
Afterwards, they actually get around to discussing what the whole meeting was for, amidst Han's complaints about his beautiful face being (bruised)(desecrated). Jongdae being his guide, Yixing's schedule was fit to the latter's so they share all classes belonging to their minor. The rest of Yixing's schedule is filled with time blocks in reserved practice rooms and other classes dance majors took. Jongdae notices that Yixing had a two hour block free tomorrow for lunch and Jongdae is off the rest of the day.

  
"I can give you a tour around campus if you want one since we're both available," Jongdae offers with such a kind smile, the corners of his lips curled beautifully, that even if Yixing wasn't available, he would make it so he was.   
  
"Sure, I'd love that," and Yixing's dimple makes an appearance once more.   
  
Their time is cut short by the fact that Jongdae and Han have class in ten minutes. The rest of them start at 8:30am rather than 8:00. Jongdae says goodbye to everyone and turns around to walk out of the lounge with Han.   
  
The sight of the other walking away makes Yixing choke on his tongue. Zhang Yixing is a self-proclaimed ass aficionado. He just loves butts, the way they curve, their slight jiggle, the way they conform to the print of his hand. That being said, he knows a good butt when he sees one and Jongdae's, Jongdae's isn't good, it's fucking perfect.   
  
The grey sweatpants conform to the pronounced curve, the swell of Jongdae's perfect, perfect ass. It's the thought of how well the cheeks would fill his hands that makes Yixing's pants feel a little tight. It's the fact that such an otherworldly ass is accompanied by a perfect face with cheekbones seemingly carved by Michelangelo himself and pretty pink curled lips and a tiny waist he wants to fit his hands around that makes him swear audibly.   
  
" _ Motherfucker _ ," and the mandarin sounds harsh in the low volume of the room. Yifan turns to him, a thick eyebrow raised.   
  
"Jongdae!" is Yixing's desperate and only reply but Jackson understands.   
  
"Get in line man," Jackson is thoroughly amused but not surprised, "Half of campus is after him."   
  
"Does he have a boyfriend then?" Yifan asks out of pure curiosity, no ulterior motives. He's not blind, Jongdae is clearly stupidly attractive but his preferences lean towards attractiveness of the female variety and despite Jongdae’s ass and waist that make girls weep in jealousy, he is still very much a male.    
  


"Nope," Jackson answers, "He's been single for a while now."   
  
"Then does he not want a relationship?" Yixing prods further, wondering how the hell someone like that could be single (and hoping that he was looking).   
  
"Why don't you ask him if you're so curious," Jackson teases and Yixing flushes, sheepish, "But honestly I don't know. We're not really close. Han's his best friend, not me."   
  
"So I should get Han to like me?"    
  
Jackson smiles wryly, "If I were you, I wouldn't worry about Han."   
  
That confuses Yixing, brows furrowing, "Who should I worry about then?"    
  
"You'll know if you meet him."   



	4. Blooming

The campus is filled with students, some going to their next class and others relaxing on the grounds. It’s a day with clear blue skies, August having bled into September, and the warmth is still clinging stubbornly. It causes sweat to trickle down the curve of Yixing’s spine and his tank top to stick to his skin.

 

Yixing anxiously checks the time on his phone. He’s supposed to meet with Jongdae at 12:00 and is a whole fifteen minutes early. Excitement and anticipation curls in his gut and manifests itself in the tapping of his foot. He runs his hand through his black hair for the nth time. He’s not sure why he’s so nervous. It’s only a casual tour...with his mentor...who happens to be one of the cutest guys he’s ever seen. Okay, maybe the reason for his anxiety is a bit more apparent.

 

The time he has to spare allows him to ruminate. It’s unlike him to get so interested so quickly. With his past relationships, it had taken time for the attraction to grow and transform into something so intense. He almost believes that his memory of Jongdae was somehow altered. Maybe the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid or even kissed someone in over a year is messing with his head, transforming Jongdae into this impossibly perfect person who was the physical manifestation of all his wet dreams. 

 

He’s proven wrong when someone taps his shoulder and he whirls around to see Jongdae’s face a mere inch or two from his own. He’s so close he can see the curl of his mile long lashes and the delicate spatter of freckles still lingering from a summer tan. 

 

Jongdae pulls back now that he has Yixing’s attention but Yixing’s still reeling, heart frozen in his chest, “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Yixing’s throat feels dry as he takes in Jongdae before him. The latter is clad in a simple white t-shirt and his light-wash skinny jeans make it hard for Yixing to tear his eyes away from the way they hug his thighs.

 

“I hope you didn’t wait long,” Jongdae looks sheepish, bringing an arm up to scratch at the back of his neck. The action makes his shirt pull, drawing attention to very defined biceps. 

 

Yixing wants to cry. He averts his eyes quickly, hoping that Jongdae didn't notice his blatant ogling.

 

“No,  _ not long at all _ ,” In his haste and attempt at nonchalance, he accidentally reverts back to his mother tongue.

 

“ _ That’s good then, _ ” Jongdae smiles cheekily and responds in kind, “but we should stick to Korean if you want to learn anything.”

 

Yixing wants the ground to open up beneath his feet and swallow him. He prays that Jongdae assumes that he had simply forgotten the words in Korean and not that the latter had a blooming crush on the other. One that is growing exponentially. 

 

“My bad,” Yixing says lamely, currently trying to get his brain to work properly while battling his rising heartbeat. 

 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Jongdae pats him on the shoulder, trying not to pause at the feeling of solid muscle beneath his hand, “ When I first arrived in Beijing, I couldn’t speak to anyone. It’s like all the years studying just flew out the door whenever someone tried to start a conversation with me! I’d say you’re doing much better than I was.”

 

Yixing doesn’t need comforting in the sense that Jongdae is suggesting but he appreciates it anyway. He sees an opportunity to learn more about the younger and grabs it, “Did you only stay in Beijing?”

 

“Yup,” Jongdae nods, “I went to high school there for a year.”

 

“You have a clear Beijing accent when you speak,” Yixing points out. He finds it endearing.

 

“Really?” Jongdae had never noticed, “I guess it makes sense. I learnt the majority there and Han-ge is from there too.”

 

Jongdae then feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He takes it out to see a text from Chanyeol asking him to grab some pizza from the cafeteria before he comes goes over later. He texts back an affirmative before getting up from his seat next to Yixing. 

 

“We should get this tour started. I have to meet up with someone after this,” Jongdae gestures for them to get going. 

 

The campus isn’t too complicated nor is it too big so the tour reflects that. There are dorms on the south end and the north end. The music building is situated near the south dorms and the sciences the north. The Languages and Arts building is next to the music building. The soccer field lays in the east and finally the main building is in the west. 

 

They get through the tour and end up at the steps of the music building.

 

“And here is where you’ll be spending pretty much all your time,” Jongdae makes a large gesture at the large multi-floored grey edifice, “Classes are on the 1st and 2nd floors, music rooms are on the 3rd and 4th and dance studios take up 5th and 6th. I’m sorry I can't tell you more about the dance part. Not sure exactly how that works.”

 

“It’s fine,” Yixing assures wholeheartedly, “You’re being really helpful.”

 

Yixing isn’t lying. He’d be pretty lost, never the greatest at orientating himself and his university back home was easily half the size of this one. 

 

“Glad I’m doing my job right then,” Jongdae offers him a pretty eye smile. He then seems to be deliberating something in his head, rolling around the words on his tongue, “Do you— I mean only if  _ really _ you want to— want to come and hang out with me and my friend?”

 

Yixing is taken aback, not having expected the offer and he blinks dumbly at the other in response. 

 

Jongdae seems to take his incredulous look as a negative and quickly backtracks, “It’s fine. You don’t have to. I mean, you’re probably busy. Just forget I asked.”

 

The brief flash of disappointment that flashed on Jongdae’s face makes discomfort churn in Yixing’s gut and he’s quick to try and salvage the situation, “No, no, I’d love to. I was just surprised.”

 

Jongdae’s resulting grin is blinding, all scrunched eyes and straight white teeth. He grabs Yixing’s wrist to tug him along and the small fingers burn into his skin as they brush against the protruding bone. Yixing’s brain seems to short circuit for a moment. He’s not sure what he just agreed to. 

 

Not twenty minutes later, Jongdae is loudly knocking on the door, “Chanyeol open up!”

 

Yixing is standing behind him, holding a box with a few slices of pizza. Chanyeol opens the door not a moment later.

 

“Jongdae!” Chanyeol exclaims when he sees said man and his long arms pull him into a big hug. Chanyeol’s frame absolutely engulfs Jongdae’s smaller one. Jongdae lovingly hugs him back before they part and Chanyeol notices Yixing staring at them curiously.

 

“Is this Yixing?” Chanyeol asks because Jongdae’s description of hottie with a dimple is pretty spot on.

 

“Yes, Yixing  _ hyung _ !” Jongdae corrects then gestures to Chanyeol, “Yixing, this is Chanyeol. He has the same minor as us.”

 

“Really?” Chanyeol smiles nicely, “I like you. You’re my friend now.”

 

“What?” Yixing is confused at the sudden statement and looks to Jongdae for further assistance. Jongdae mouths at him to say yes and Yixing does so.

 

“Great! Let’s stop standing out here in the hall,” and Chanyeol is beaming.

  
Chanyeol shares his dorm with Baekhyun, who isn’t present at the moment. It’s honestly an average dorm room but the keyboard, bass and various guitars  in the corner, along with the acoustic one on the couch, give it much more character. It also looks like every music student’s wet dream and clearly Yixing shares that thought. His jaw drops as he takes everything in, his fingers itching to grab one of the instruments and just go crazy on it.   
  
Chanyeol definitely notices his expression, “What do you play?”   
  
Jongdae lightly tugs Yixing to sit next next to him on the couch, Jongdae himself sitting between the other two. Chanyeol now has the acoustic guitar on his lap.   
  
“Piano and Guitar,” Yixing answers and Chanyeol gets all excited to have someone else to geek out over instruments with. They launch into a discussion on a newer guitar model that was released earlier in the year. Jongdae simply lets them go on, not able to add much to the conversation. His mind travels to somewhere not-so-innocent, eyes zeroing in on Yixing’s hands. He knows from experience that guitarists’ hands were calloused and rough from the strings. Yixing’s are pretty, with long slim fingers that probably sweep over piano keys beautifully. An image of those very fingers brushing his naked thigh manifests itself in Jongdae’s mind and Jongdae wonders if they’ll feel rough against his skin too.    
  
Jongdae’s feels hot under the collar and forces himself to think of something else lest a certain problem arises.   
  
“Thanks for making me feel included,” Jongdae jests at the two, interrupting them. “If I knew you would have ignored me ge, I wouldn’t have brought you.”   
  
Yixing, at least, looks sheepish at having neglected Jongdae. He flushes, half in embarrassment and half at the fact that Jongdae just called him ge, “Sorry Jongdae, I got a little excited.”   
  
“It’s okay,” Jongdae quirks the corner of his lip and he feels a little bold all of the sudden, “You looked cute getting all passionate like that.”   
  
Yixing reddens and struggles to come up with a proper response but Chanyeol beats him to it.   
  
“Don’t feel bad, hyung. Jongdae is just jealous that he’s not as talented as the both of us,” Chanyeol nudges Jongdae annoyingly.   
  
The comment certainly riles Jongdae up and he huffs, “I’m taking Piano this semester so let’s see who's more talented by the time winter comes.”    
  
“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Chanyeol retorts, “You’re gonna be so intimidating, playing Jingle Bells on the piano. You already have the height of an elf, might as well start sounding the part too.”   
  
At that, Yixing bursts out into laughter and his whole body shakes with it. Jongdae utterly forgets his comeback to Chanyeol’s insult, mind wiped clean by the sight of the other laughing before him. Something akin to butterflies blooms in his gut.   
  
This isn’t good.    
  
  
  


* * *

 

The weekend is just in sight and like any student, Jongdae is anticipating it. It's not even an abundance of work or projects that cause the need for it to arrive quicker; his semester is still pretty relaxed so far. Though, he can’t say the same for Minseok who he barely sees anymore, always off working, doing his internship or attending soccer practices. How Minseok manages to balance everything and not go insane is lost to Jongdae. The latter was never someone who enjoyed being put under a huge amount of pressure without being able to breathe.   
  
Which is probably one of the pros of not being in contact with his parents anymore. The summer after he graduated high school, Jongdae had decided to take a leap of faith and come out to his parents. Needless to say, it hadn't ended well as he found himself on Minseok’s doorstep not two hours later, holding back tears and his luggage in tow. Not being accepted by his parents had hurt so deeply, leaving deep scars but not all was lost. His older brother Jongdeok filled in their role, paying for his tuition and bills. There were no strings attached to his supporting of Jongdae, unlike with his parents which came with a long list of terms and conditions that needed to be fulfilled. The biggest condition was that Jongdae had to study something in the STEM field.   
  
Once Jongdeok took financial responsibility over Jongdae, the latter had switched into music, his utter passion from a young age, almost immediately.   
  
It was, and probably still is, one of the best decisions he has ever made in his short nineteen (almost twenty!) years of living.    
  
Regardless of his lack of piles of homework, Jongdae still tries to be productive, doing some readings and organizing his notes so when things do get hectic (which they inevitably will), he’s prepared. Large professional headphones are covering his ears and a YouTube chillstep playlist is playing from them, acting as background music as he works. He always feels most productive when listening to something of the sort, never completely comfortable with silence. His constant habit of playing music is what makes him miss the sound of the door to his apartment opening. 

 

Everyone in their friend group has a key to the apartment in case they want to drop by.

 

Baekhyun walks in, taking advantage of that fact, bags of takeout and junk food in his hands. He sets them on the kitchen table and calls out Jongdae’s name. Jongdae had told Baekhyun that Minseok would be busy again tonight and Baekhyun had decided for them to have a little “date night”. They used to spend a night together, at least once every two weeks, back when they dated senior year of high school. Even after they broke up, they never really lost the habit, only instead of hours spent lost in each other’s touch, they would spend hours binge watching shitty tv and eating shitty foods.    
  
When Baekhyun receives no answer, he goes to look for Jongdae only to find him hunched over his desk, humming along to a melody no one could hear but him. Baekhyun can’t help the fond smile that stretches across his lips. Then, he makes his way over, pulling the headphones off the other’s ears to signal his presence.    
  
Jongdae jumps in surprise and quickly turns to see who is in his room. He is surprised for another reason when he sees it's Baekhyun, “Hey! What are you doing here?”   
  
"Can't a guy come see his best friend without any reason?" Baekhyun is mischief personified and it's displayed by the quirk of his brow and an underlying sense that he's hiding something.   
  
"I mean, sure?" Jongdae is definitely skeptical. Not that Baekhyun has never shown up without any ulterior motive, it just seems like he's up to something.   
  
"You wound me Kim Jongdae," Baekhyun is nothing but theatrics, clutching at his chest as if Jongdae had stabbed him rather than simply suspected him of not being completely honest.   
  
"Don't tempt me," Jongdae pokes Baekhyun in the stomach with his pen, smiling in disbelief.   
  
After a few more moments of faux writhing, Baekhyun straightens up, "You're the biggest softie Dae, you won't do anything."   
  
Jongdae gives him an unimpressed look, "That's Chanyeol actually."    
  
Baekhyun doesn't argue because it's pretty true. Chanyeol couldn't even hurt a fly if he wanted to. He once stepped on a worm accidentally and started crying.He was only comforted after they all held a funeral for it and placed a flower as a tombstone.   
  


"But honestly, stop studying, let's have a date night," Baekhyun grabs Jongdae's hand and is pulling him out of his chair before Jongdae even has a chance to protest.     
  
When they're in the kitchen, Baekhyun pulls out the food he brought from the bags. There are two boxes of pizza, along with some fries and various types of chips and candy. Jongdae is practically salivating at the sight.

 

He pulls Baekhyun into the tightest hug possible, “I knew I kept you around for a reason!”

 

“Of course, my sole purpose on this earth is to feed you,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes at the jab but embraces him regardless.

 

Later in the evening, they are seated in front of the television. A historical drama that Minseok’s little sister is obsessed with plays on the screen. The two find it to be absolutely atrocious, the plot-line is so cheesy. The main actress has the entire line of princes in love with her and by the end of the first episode, Jongdae and Baekhyun’s sides are cramping from the from the full-on guffaws that are wracking their bodies. Their mouths are slick with grease, Jongdae chewing happily on his slice of all-dressed pizza, the hot stringy cheese melting on his tongue. Half-way through the second episode, they seem done with the eating, lulled into a drowsy and heavy state from the abundance of food in their bodies.

 

The reason for Baekhyun’s visit, besides actually wanting to see Jongdae, surfaces when there's a lull in the sound, not much happening in the drama, “I heard you slept with Kyungsoo.”

 

Jongdae takes his eyes away from the television to face Baekhyun who has turned to him, “I did.”

 

“Why?” Baekhyun inquires, resting his head onto his palms, elbows propped up his inner knees. 

 

“I don't know?” Jongdae’s shoulders slump and he shrinks a little under Baekhyun’s scrutinizing gaze. “I—we drank? And then he kissed me and we just ended up sleeping together.”

 

“But you said you were keeping things platonic between the two of you?”

 

“Yes, thank you for the reminder,” Jongdae sighs heavily, slumping back into the couch. The residual taste of food turns sour on his tongue.

 

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad Dae…” Baekhyun’s voice is hesitant and he wavers on the decision to keep pushing the issue, “I just think you need to figure out what you really want. Running away from your problems like you always do isn’t going to solve them.”

 

“This isn’t a problem,” Jongdae huffs, crossing his arms in indignation, “So what if I fucked up? There is no further issue. I got drunk. We slept together. That. Is. All.”

 

“No, that’s all you  _ want _ it to be Jongdae,” Baekhyun pushes because that’s what he does; he tests and pushes boundaries, always dancing across the fine line and dipping his toe into the wrong side.

 

But it's the wrong approach to take with Jongdae who has trouble even  _ setting  _ boundaries, simply retreating further into himself. But he’s improving. He has to, or a healthy friendship between the two wouldn’t be feasible.

 

“Baekhyun, I don’t want to talk about,” Jongdae feels himself wanting to curl into himself, to hide away, but he doesn't let it happen, building a makeshift wall, “ _ Please _ .”

 

And if Jongdae is working on himself, so is Baekhyun, and he realizes that he’s gone too far; Jongdae’s shoulders are hunched with discomfort and his lower lip is trapped between the bite of his teeth. So Baekhyun quickly backs off, “Okay. Okay.”

 

A tense silence stretches between the two, Jongdae’s gaze is back on the television but seems unfocused and far away, while Baekhyun’s is glued to Jongdae’s face, watching the clench in his jaw and the deep furrow between his brows. Guilt festers in his chest and now he wants nothing more than to take the last five minutes back. But he can’t, so he settles for shifting onto his knees and pulling Jongdae into his arms. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun whispers into the thick fabric of Jongdae’s hoodie. Jongdae decides to lean backward to lay down on the couch, pulling Baekhyun on top of him.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Minseok, arriving home later after catching a bite with his team after practice, finds them in the same position: Baekhyun’s nose tucked under Jongdae’s jaw, his arm hugging his chest and their legs impossibly tangled. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Seeing Jongdae every day becomes the norm for Yixing. It’s not much of a surprise seeing as Jongdae has been assigned to help him get accustomed to University life in Seoul. Yet Yixing doesn’t think that Jongdae inviting him out for a quick bite after class is part of his duties (at least he hopes it isn’t). Classes are done for the day, the two having spent the better part of three hours in ‘Digital Music Composition’. When Yixing had seen it on his schedule, he had literally jumped in joy, excited at the prospect of learning new methods of composition and fine-tuning his already existing ones. Regardless of his love and interest, he found himself hoping for time to speed up after the second hour and it seemed that Jongdae shared the sentiment.

 

Feeling tense, Jongdae interlaces his fingers together and brings his arms above his head, relishing in the stretch and crack of his spine after spending so much time hunched over a computer screen. Yixing catches the brief flash of skin as the other’s shirt rides up. That, along with the suggestive noise of satisfaction Jongdae lets out, is enough for Yixing’s throat to go dry. 

 

Jongdae’s voice snaps him out of his rapidly spiraling thoughts, “I want to go eat on the bleachers. The soccer team is practicing.”

 

“Sure,” Yixing readily agrees, following Jongdae’s lead since he’s still unfamiliar with the layout of the campus. Sure enough, the soccer team has already started their warm-up, uniformly running laps around the perimeter of the field. Jongdae and Yixing climb up the stairs and sit near the top, giving themselves a great view of everything going on. There are a couple of small groups of students scattered along the bleachers and the ones facing Jongdae and Yixing, all having similar ideas of eating or just hanging out.

 

Jongdae opens the wrapping holding the kimbap they had bought in the school’s cafeteria and grabs a piece with his chopsticks, shoving it into his mouth immediately. His eyes curve up in mirth as the salt of the seaweed and Korean ham, balanced out by the rice, meets his tongue. Yixing watches on, as Jongdae takes another, showing a similar reaction as before. Warmth blossoms in his chest, suffusing until his stomach. Never has he met anyone so expressive and content eating even the simplest of foods. He continues staring, forgetting to take some for himself.

 

Jongdae notices that he’s the only one eating after gobbling down a few more. He picks up one and offers it to Yixing, “Here, have some too. You can’t make me eat them all.”

 

Yixing feels the tip of his ears go pink because  _ Jongdae is feeding him _ but takes it nonetheless, blushing even harder at the pleased expression that spreads across Jongdae’s face after he eats it. 

 

“It’s good, no?” Jongdae says, feeding him another, “It’s even better fresh, but you have to go as soon as lunch starts for that.”

 

“Yeah, it’s delicious,” Yixing agrees, “I’ll be sure to try them at lunch then.”

 

The food is quickly finished and they wash it down with some sparkling juice. The soccer team is now practicing their free kicks, Jongdae watching as the players lineup to kick the ball into the net. Jongdae notices the familiar wide-set shoulders and pretty lavender hair tied into a bun at the top of Minseok’s head. Minseok is helping gather the wayward balls that fly past the net, kicking them back to their respective owners with ease and precision. Han leads the drill, the piercing shrill of his whistle signaling the start of the next free kick.

 

Jongdae nudges Yixing with his arm and begins speaking when Yixing acknowledges him, “There’s Han, he’s the captain,” Jongdae points to him and Yixing follows the line of his arm, recognizing the other immediately. Jongdae then points at someone standing near the net, who Yixing isn’t familiar with, “and that’s Minseok, the vice-captain, and my best friend. I’ll introduce you later. I’m sure you’ll get along.”

 

“Sure, that would be nice,” Yixing nods his head then quirks a brow at the younger, “Why do you think we’ll get along?”

 

Jongdae leans back, eyes appraising Yixing from head to toe, “I guess it’s your personality. I know we haven’t known each other for very long but it feels like you would just, y’know,  _ fit _ with us. You’re just really nice and really…nice to be around too?”

 

Yixing doesn’t even know how to properly respond that, suddenly feeling very self-conscious but also giddy due to the compliment Jongdae just sent his way, so he doesn’t, simply retorting: “are you really sure about that last part?”

 

It’s now Jongdae’s turn to feel embarrassed. His small hand comes out to shove Yixing in the shoulder, “Why are you being an asshole right now? I just called you nice. Normal people just say thank you.”

 

Jongdae full on whines and actually stomps his feet against the metal beneath them. Yixing is astonished as to how someone could actually be so damn hot one second and so freaking adorable the next. Out of sheer bewilderment, he can’t help but break out into guffaws.

 

“And now you’re  _ laughing _ at me?” Jongdae’s arms are at his sides, forearms extended and palms up as if to say ‘ _ what the fuck? _ ’. Jongdae’s disbelief only causes Yixing to shake harder, the latter curling into himself, arms clutching at his stomach as it begins to ache.

 

“Fine,” Jongdae grumbles, crossing his arms indignantly, “I was going to ask you something but I guess you wouldn’t appreciate it like you don’t appreciate me complimenting you.”

 

This sparks Yixing’s curiousity and he practically forces himself to relax, taking deep calming inhales and shaky exhales that are interspersed by occasional giggles until finally only the ache in his abdominal muscles remains, “What did you want to ask me?”

 

“Too late. You lost your chance,” There is a telltale quirk at the corner of Jongdae’s already curled lips; he plans to tell him, but not before drawing things out a little.

 

“Come on,” Yixing bumps Jongdae with his shoulder, urging the younger to divulge what he’s keeping from him, “Tell me.”

 

“Nope,” Jongdae is nothing if not stubborn.

 

“Jongdae,” Yixing’s voice has a slight pleading tone to it. The sound of Jongdae’s name falling from the other’s tongue sends shivers down his spine and he doesn’t deem him with a reply.

 

“Jongdae,” Yixing repeats, tonguing at his teeth in frustration when he gets nothing but radio silence from said man. He needs some leverage, “Will you tell me if I get you coffee tomorrow?”

 

Jongdae’s facade of nonchalance cracks at the curious raise of his brow, “...keep talking.”

 

Bingo.

 

“The vanilla?” Yixing wracks his brain for the exact type, “yeah, the French vanilla one with whipped cream and cinnamon, I think. Right? The one that you save for special occasions because it gives you a sugar high and you get all shaky for the rest of the day.”

 

Jongdae is silent for a moment before he turns to Yixing, a strange look on his face that Yixing can’t decipher, “You remembered that?”

 

“I mean...yeah?” A shy smile makes its way onto Yixing’s lips, “It’s hard to forget things when they’re about you.”

 

It takes a moment for the words to actually register in Jongdae’s head and when they do he becomes extremely flustered, palms sweaty and heart racing. His brain seems to be working at 2x speed because Yixing is still smiling at him and the  _ fucking dimple  _ makes its appearance as his lips stretch wider. 

 

Jongdae clears his throat, clammy hands subtly wiping against the front of his track pants, “You got the drink right...I—I just wanted to know what you were doing this Saturday.”

 

“Oh,” Yixing can sense the excitement start to grow in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of seeing Jongdae outside of weekdays, “Nothing really. Maybe spending the morning at the studio. Why?”

 

“It’s my birthday and I’m having a party,” Nerves get the best of Jongdae and he doesn’t want to appear to eager in case Yixing has better things to do, “You don’t have to come, you’ll probably be too tired from dance—”

 

“No!” Yixing interrupts sternly, “No, I would love to come. It’s your birthday. How could I miss it?”

 

“Great!” Jongdae absolutely  _ beams _ and Yixing is left reeling from the pretty curve of his teeth and the scrunch of his eyes, “I’ll text you all the details later.”

 

Not long afterwards, as they chit-chat, each of them trying to mask their exhilaration from the other, a sharp whistle cuts through the air. Han calls for a break, the members of the team making their way to the benches and grabbing some water. Jongdae takes that as their cue to go see his friends.

 

In all honesty, this visit is as much for Yixing as it is for himself. 

 

Quite ironically, he has barely even seen Minseok despite the fact that they live together. Their schedules simply don’t match up. They don’t even have the small pleasure of the drive to school in the morning and after school anymore; now, Jongdae simply takes the bus since Minseok doesn’t actually need to arrive until half an hour later. Minseok naturally rises early so it isn’t much trouble to bring Jongdae, but as the work piles up, Jongdae wants to give his best friend as much sleep as he possibly can get.

 

“Kim Minseok!” Jongdae yells at the top his lungs, making everyone in the vicinity jump in fright. At the sound of his name, Minseok turns around just in time for Jongdae to barrel into him, arms automatically coming around the other and muscles straining to keep them from tipping over. Jongdae tightens his embrace, nose burying into his neck. 

 

“Hey,” Minseok’s voice is soft as he pulls Jongdae closer. Jongdae’s hugs are absolutely magical; any time Minseok felt like he was at the end of his rope, all it took was for him to wrap his arms around Jongdae or for Jongdae to wrap his arms around him, and it allowed him to regroup and collect himself. They were akin to a charging port, giving him newfound energy when he was drained and fresh mindset to tackle his issues at a better angle.

 

No matter how many times Minseok receives one, the effect is always the same. No matter what, Jongdae always has a sixth sense that seemingly alerts him when Minseok is in need. They stand like that for a few moments, regardless of the fact that Minseok’s clothes are drenched in sweat and that they are in public. Jongdae stays, oozing comfort and love, and waits for Minseok to pull away first. When Minseok does, Jongdae steps back but not before pressing his lips to his cheek.

 

They have an audience which consists of Han and Yixing and other members of the team(but they disregard those). Han is whispering things into Yixing’s ear in quick flowing mandarin. Jongdae looks at him in questioning.

 

“Don’t stress Dae,” Han says in response, “I’m just filling in Yixing here on you and Minseok’s weird soulmate relationship.”

 

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you ge,” Jongdae quips, leaning into Minseok as the elder slings an arm around his shoulders. Han childishly sticks his tongue out at the younger.

 

Jongdae returns the gesture, Minseok rolling his eyes fondly at the two. 

 

“Don’t mind these two babies, you get used to them with time,” Minseok addresses Yixing, who is all kinds of amused at the said ‘babies’ exchange. “I’m Minseok.”

 

“I know,” Yixing answers, “I’m Yixing.”

 

“I know,” Minseok teases goodnaturedly, “How are you liking it here?”

 

“It’s pretty good so far, no complaints,” Yixing smiles conspiratorially at Jongdae, “I’ve got a great guide.”

 

Jongdae preens and pretends to inspect his nails, all while trying to cover the fact that his heart had nearly skipped a beat, “I mean, he’s not wrong. I’m better than Han-ge, that’s for sure.”

 

An affronted sound escapes Han’s mouth, “I’ll have you know that Yifan thinks I’m amazing.”

 

“Yifan’s opinion is invalid. The guy still wears  _ snapbacks!” _

Han looks like he wants to defend his pride, opening his mouth to retort, but once he realizes that, really, he can’t argue against that, he shuts it. Jongdae gives him a haughty, shit-eating grin and that’s all it takes for Han to launch himself at Jongdae. Jongdae jolts, dipping under Minseok’s arm and behind him, pushing him forward. He uses Minseok as a makeshift shield, moving him to in sync with Han’s advances. Han only grows more irritated, mandarin expletives and threats falling from his tongue as Jongdae respectively grows more amused. Exasperation shows itself clearly in Minseok’s face along with resignation, long having accepted being pulled into their stupidity.

 

Yixing watches on, trying to muffle snickers behind his palm, and thinks that coming to Seoul is one of the best decisions he’s ever made.


	5. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongdae’s finally legal!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a tad longer than usual. Hope you all enjoy :)

Jongdae is convinced that Baekhyun’s sole purpose on this planet is to make his life miserable. Somehow, Baekhyun decided that it was a good idea to wake Jongdae up by jumping on him and promptly landing an elbow on his sternum. So, not only is Jongdae rudely torn from his  _ amazing  _ dream at 6am by a terribly off-key rendition of happy birthday that would make their vocal coach cry in horror, he also is struggling to breathe and will most likely be sporting a bruise of some kind. 

 

Jongdae expresses his anger by pushing Baekhyun off of him and onto the floor. It’s not the smartest idea because Baekhyun screeches and wow, that is way too loud at this time of day. Jongdae laments over the fact that somehow, he, a whole night owl, has befriended three people who can somehow function before 11am. And he only has  _ four  _ best friends! 

 

Minseok, the truest definition of a morning person if Jongdae ever saw one (who the hell purposely wakes up two hours before he has to wake up to go to the  _ gym  _ of all places? Don’t even get Jongdae started on Minseok actually enjoying physical activity because the younger can write up a twenty page essay with references and an accompanying powerpoint on how the only activity anyone should voluntarily participate in is  _ sexual _ activity), comes barging in, concerned by all the commotion.

 

When he sees the two writing in pain, Jongdae curled into a ball and Baekhyun on the floor, clutching his ass, he lets out a huff, “What the fuck? We have neighbours!”

 

Jongdae only manages a groan in response while Baekhyun points at the former with all the vehemence of an angry child, “This dick pushed me!”

 

“You fucking elbowed me  _ in the chest _ ,” Jongdae is quick to defend himself.

 

Minseok absolutely cannot deal with this right now, simply wanting to drink his morning coffee in peace. He leaves the two to continue their bickering and they don’t even notice his absence. They emerge from Jongdae’s room about ten minutes later, Jongdae sleepily clinging to Baekhyun as if nothing happened. Sitting on the couch, Baekhyun reclines, his feet ending up in Minseok’s lap.

 

Minseok had already wished Jongdae happy birthday (along with the rest of their friends in the group chat) at midnight but he doesn’t hesitate to do it again, fondly pressing his palm to Jongdae’s cheek as the younger rests his head on his shoulder.

 

“Thanks you guys,” Jongdae mumbles and yawns towards the end, drawing out the ‘guys’.

 

“I was going to have breakfast ready when you woke up, but I wasn't expecting this one to wake you up so early,” Minseok jabs an accusing thumb at Baekhyun, who protests with a whiny ‘hey’.

 

“It’s okay hyung,” Jongdae snuggles closer, eyes starting to droop, “I forgive you, you’re still the best husband.”

 

Jongdae and Minseok being a married couple is the running joke in their friend group. Can they really be blamed for calling them that? They already live together, have set cleaning days, go grocery shopping together and, as a result of their years of friendship, they know each other even better than they know themselves.  

 

“Still, it’s your birthday, I want to do it for you,” Minseok makes to get up but Jongdae tightens his hold on him, making a noise of protest.

 

“M’sleepy, just feed me when I wake up...” Jongdae relaxes once he knows Minseok won’t try to leave any more. Minseok sighs and resigns himself to his fate of becoming a human pillow. Jongdae is out like a light within seconds. 

 

When he opens his eyes again, it’s at a much more humane time, just before noon. He’s alone, and curled up on the couch, a throw pillow under his head and a blanket placed over him. He was probably rearranged by one of the two in his sleep.

 

Voices filter in from the kitchen; a low baritone, followed by a much lighter tone in comparison, announces that Chanyeol and Han have arrived. Jongdae shuffles his way to said kitchen, attempting to rub the grogginess from his eyes. When he steps through the threshold, he’s immediately greeted by an overly excited Chanyeol.

 

“Jongdae!!” Chanyeol is up from his seat in seconds, long legs taking a few strides before he’s squeezing the shorter into a rib-crushing hug. Jongdae’s feet lift from the ground as Chanyeol spins him around a few times for extra measure. When the former is properly dizzy, Chanyeol puts him down, “Happy birthday!”

 

“Thanks Yeol,” Jongdae feels slightly overwhelmed by all the love coming his way but returns the hug with just as much enthusiasm.

 

When he’s finally released, Han quickly takes Chanyeol’s place, only there is no spinning involved, just a tight hug, along with a condescending head pat, “Happy birthday Daedae! You’re not a baby anymore.”

 

Once everyone is settled down, Minseok explains the plans for the day, “We’re taking you out for lunch.”

 

Jongdae’s interest is definitely peaked, “Where?”

 

“The barbecue place that opened up not too long ago,” Baekhyun interjects cheerfully, “You were dying to try it out.”

 

Everyone who gets close enough to Jongdae knows that the way to his heart is through his stomach, so it's to no surprise that he starts to proclaim his undying love for all of them. 

 

Said love grows further when Baekhyun mentions that they should open presents before they leave. Apprehension settles itself in Jongdae’s chest. He has never enjoyed anyone spending too much on him and his friends have a tendency to go overboard with their gifts. Jongdae worries since this year he’s finally legal. When Baekhyun turned 20 in May, everyone (himself included) spared no expense and Jongdae has a feeling it's going to be a similar case for him.

 

His concerns are confirmed when Chanyeol and Baekhyun return from retrieving the gift from Minseok’s room, carrying a decent sized box between the two of them. It’s carefully wrapped in pastel blue paper. They set it down in front of Jongdae, who raises a brow at the two.

 

“This is from Baek and I,” Chanyeol explains, rubbing his hands together eagerly, “Open it!”

 

Baekhyun echoes Chanyeol’s demand and Jongdae follows it, tearing off the paper and stopping short when he sees a picture on the box.

 

“No—,” Jongdae’s eyes widen in disbelief, “You fucking  _ didn’t.” _

 

They got him a damn digital piano, and an expensive one that, judging from the brand. Gratitude swells in his chest, mixing with the lingering feeling of disbelief, his throat feeling tight.

 

“Yes we did,” Baekhyun says and suddenly he has an armful of Jongdae. Jongdae’s other arm comes out to pull Chanyeol into the embrace, thanking them profusely.

 

“I figured every future composer needs one and it would make your life easier to be able to practice and learn from your home. I mean, you don't even need to put on pants to play!” Chanyeol explains when Jongdae pulls back from the two.

 

“Yeah, basically Chanyeol was the mastermind, I just gave him my wallet,” Baekhyun isn’t even sheepish about the fact, laughing proudly.

 

“I—don’t even know what to say,” Jongdae looks at them with so much warmth.

 

“You can start with ‘Byun Baekhyun is the best person on this planet and I will repay him by buying him lunch everyday for the rest of his life’.”

 

“Don’t push it Baek,” Jongdae threatens but it’s dampened by the large grin on his face that refuses to falter. 

 

“Yes, yes, it’s an amazing gift, but it’s my turn now,” Han interrupts placing his present before Jongdae and ignoring Minseok who corrects him saying ‘ _ our _ turn’. 

 

It’s a much smaller box, comfortably sitting on the table, and Jongdae discovers that it holds a much needed  _ laptop _ .

 

“What the actual fuck?” Jongdae says rather ineloquently, mind overwhelmed by the sheer amount of emotions running through it, thus unable to form proper responses.

 

“Your old laptop is a piece of shit. I’m surprised it even lasted as long as it did. You were long overdue for an upgrade,” Minseok lovingly clasps Jongdae’s shoulder and Jongdae wonders how he got so lucky.

 

Apparently the gifts don't end there since, after the group head out and stuff themselves with so much meat and cake that they think they might actually explode, Baekhyun and Jongdae part ways with everyone else. The other three head back to the apartment to get everything ready in time for the party while Baekhyun practically drags Jongdae to a salon.

 

“Baekhyun, why are we here?” Jongdae asks for the millionth time.

 

Baekhyun shoots him an unimpressed look, “To get your hair done? Why else would we be in a hair salon?”

 

 

“Yes, but  _ why _ ? Why do I need to change my hair?”

 

“Look Jongdae,” Baekhyun sighs heavily, “Do you trust me?”

 

“Not in the slightest,” Jongdae responds without missing a beat.

 

“Well that’s too bad for you, because there’s a 50 000₩ last minute cancellation fee.”

 

* * *

 

Clothes lay strewn across Yixing’s dorm room, draped over the side of his mattress and pooled on the floor. He sighs heavily, looking at almost the entirety of his closet spread out around him. Nothing seemed quite right, either too much or too casual, so Yixing just dejectedly pulls on his original choice: light wash jeans with tears exposing his knees and a loose white-tee.

 

He had begged Yifan, his roommate, friend and fellow exchange student, to come along for moral support and for once, Yifan is ready quicker than he is. Yifan waits for him at the door, dressed in questionable ‘streetwear’ but Yixing has learned not to ask questions.

 

“You ready?” Yifan asks. Yixing nods, slipping on his shoes and they’re on their way.

 

Ready is not a state that would describe Yixing at the moment. The fact of entering Jongdae’s apartment for the first time seems a lot more monumental than it probably is, but it still trips Yixing up. Yifan allows him to flounder for a little longer before knocking on the door in his place. Muted music can be heard through the door which is the most probable reason for the delay in answering it.

 

It opens to reveal someone who Yixing has never met. He’s about to introduce himself when Jongdae comes up from behind the stranger and Yixing’s brain short circuits.

 

Jongdae looks up at him from under impossibly long lashes darkened by makeup. A deep red haze of colour painted on his eyelids makes him look dangerous, eyes so much more intense than usual. Yet, the most remarkable thing is that his usual thick dark hair is now an almost platinum blond. 

 

“J—you—Jongdae, your hair??” Is the only coherent thing Yixing manages to say.

 

Jongdae runs his hands through it self consciously, biting at his lip, “Do you like it?”

 

Yixing’s eyes zero-in on his plump lower lip which seems redder today, whether that is the product of makeup or teeth, Yixing isn’t sure. Not wanting to be caught staring, he then forces his gaze back to Jongdae’s eyes and oh—maybe that is a bad idea because they make his knees go weak, “I—you look great.”

 

“Thanks,” Jongdae’s mouth stretches into a grateful smile and a light pink dusts his cheeks.

 

“He does! Doesn’t he?” Baekhyun comments haughtily, “See Dae? I told you this was a good idea.”

 

Baekhyun’s ideas are unpredictable and out there, so it's safe to say that they end badly at least 75% of the time. Though, the few times they do work out, they are the literal definition of genius (ie: Jongdae’s new hair). The group is careful when congratulating him on his proposals on those occasions because they don’t want to encourage Baekhyun’s usually bad choices.

 

This time, Jongdae has to give it to him, he thinks the hair looks great on him, “You were right Baek, but that is the only time I will say it, and no, I will not let you record it.”

 

Baekhyun had been in the process of pulling out his phone when Jongdae says the last part, so he reluctantly leaves it in the pocket of his jacket.

 

“Fine, anyways, I’m Baekhyun, this guy’s best friend,” Baekhyun introduces himself, “I’m guessing you’re Yixing,” he points at said man, then looks up to the other, “and you’re hella tall so you have to be Yifan.”

 

Baekhyun marks the last of Jongdae’s best friends that Yixing has to meet. Jongdae’s descriptions of Baekhyun’s antics and the things they got up to together almost makes it feel like a Yixing knows him a little already. Still, he’s caught off guard by Baekhyun’s pushiness when he drags the two in and forces them to the kitchen where numerous bottles are lined up on the table.

 

“So,” Baekhyun begins, making a sweeping gesture towards the alcohol, “What’ll it be boys? Every guest has to take a shot with the birthday boy.”

 

Yixing observes Jongdae who has followed them in and is leaning on the table. He seems relatively sober, “How many have you had so far?”

 

“Just two,” Jongdae holds up two fingers, “One just for fun and one with Kyungsoo.”

 

Yixing nods, scanning his options, before deciding,“Jack Daniels sounds good.”

 

“Coming right up,” Baekhyun gets out the shot glasses and fills them right to the brim, “What do you want Yifan-hyung?”

 

“I’ll have the same.”

 

Baekhyun finally sets four shots before them, two for Jongdae, “It has to be a loveshot.”

 

Jongdae grabs his, offering Yixing a wink before intertwining their arms, “Bottoms up.”

 

The whiskey sears his throat as it goes down and Jongdae momentarily shudders before quickly downing his other one with Yifan. He never liked drinking strong alcohol straight up, preferring mixed drinks or beer. The liquor is always quick to rush to his head, and this time is no different, a sort of weightlessness suffusing through him.

 

“Here Dae,” Baekhyun offers him his usual, a Screwdriver, and it helps get rid of the lingering burn. Jongdae takes a few more gulps and watches as Baekhyun offers the two something else to drink, to which they both answer beer.

 

Once everyone has their respective drink in hand, they make their way to the living room. The room is an absolute mess of streamers and balloons which Chanyeol was probably forced to tape to the ceiling. Yixing sidles up to Jongdae, drawing boldness from the lingering buzz of whiskey and pressing close, “I forgot to tell you happy birthday.”

 

“Thank you ge,” Jongdae leans into him, slightly breathless from the proximity.

 

The moment is over as quickly as it began, the room erupting into a multitude of greetings, followed by a few introductions, mainly involving Yifan and Kyungsoo since they are the least familiar with everyone. Somehow, the group manages to fit in the space, occupying chairs brought over from the kitchen, the love seat and the main couch. Jongdae makes himself comfortable on the love seat, place having been reserved by Chanyeol and his long limbs

 

“Guys,” Baekhyun starts, cutting into the small conversations occurring and pleasant background music, “I have an idea.”

 

Jongdae, Han, Minseok and Chanyeol collectively groan. Baekhyun ventures on, disregarding and all too used to their dismay, “Let’s play truth or dare!”

 

Han, depending on his mood that exact day, tends to either wholeheartedly agree with Baekhyun or completely disagree. Today, his mood leans heavily towards the former, “Yes! Yes! Let’s play.”

 

Minseok is less enthusiastic, “Somehow it completely slipped my mind that this was a high school party, excuse me while I go call my parents to chaperone.”

 

“I don’t know hyung,” Jongdae can see the potential in the proposal, “We had some good times at those ‘high school’ parties.”

 

Minseok snorts into his beer, knowing exactly which  _ good times _ Jongdae is referring to. Specifically the time where they woke up together the next day, stark naked, with a very incriminating and nsfw video detailing the fun they got up to the night before (said video is still saved on Jongdae’s computer under such an inconspicuous name that no matter how many times Han and Baekhyun snoop around for it, they still haven’t found it) , “I mean it’s your birthday, so it’s up to you.”

 

“Okay, but if you guys really don’t want to, we don’t have to play,” Jongdae offers.

 

“No, no let’s do it,” Kyungsoo says and the rest of them make varying gestures of agreement.

 

“Should we wait for Sehun?” 

 

“Just make him catch up when he gets here, stop worrying Jongdae,” Kyungsoo reaches over to pat his shoulder in a comforting manner. Jongdae makes a sound in assent.

 

“Great!” Baekhyun claps his hands together, “Now that that’s settled. I think we should keep the rules simple. If you don’t want to answer truth or you don’t do the dare, you have to drink a whole cup filled with every type of alcohol we have.”

 

“Are you insane?!” Han asks, “Isn’t that going overboard?”

 

“I mean, if you’re too much of a coward, then sure,” Baekhyun shrugs and Han looks about two seconds away from jumping over and strangling him.

 

“How about you have three chances?” Jongdae cuts in before anything can escalate further, “The first strike, you take a shot. Second, two shots. Last strike, you drink the cup.”

 

“Sounds reasonable,” Kyungsoo agrees. Han is satisfied too, sending Jongdae a thumbs up.

 

“I still think my way is better but...fine,” Baekhyun grumbles, bottom lip jutting out. They reach a general consensus over these requirements. Baekhyun drags Chanyeol along to retrieve a few bottles and returns with them and a cup in his hands. The liquid inside an odd brown colour, the fruit juices, dark liquors, light liquors, beers etc, all mingling together to form a rather gross looking concoction.

 

“Behold,” Baekhyun announces rather dramatically, “the Cup of Death.”

 

Jongdae shudders at the thought of having to drink it, reminding himself that they are still clubbing after this so he can’t throw up before he even leaves the house. Promising himself to do his best at avoiding such a fate, he fixes his eyes on Minseok, “So, hyung, how about you go first?”

 

“Sure, why not?” Minseok shrugs, eyes scanning the room to see who he could possibly target. He locks his eyes on Chanyeol, “Chan, truth or dare?”

 

“Dare,” Chanyeol has on the most challenging smirk and Minseok mirrors it.

 

“I dare you to sit on Kyungsoo’s lap until your next turn,” Minseok pulls out all the stops at the first question and Chanyeol’s jaw drops. He apprehensively looks over to Kyungsoo as if Kyungsoo were a rabid dog. 

 

Kyungsoo shrugs, gesturing towards his free lap, “Go for it.”

 

Jongdae snickers behind his palm, remembering how Kyungsoo enjoyed watching Chanyeol squirm. The taller is doing plenty of squirming at the moment, standing from his chair and rearranging himself to sit on Kyungsoo. The sight is comical, Chanyeol dwarfing the other and needing to sit sideways so he doesn’t obscure him completely.

 

“Since you find this so amusing Dae,” Chanyeol bites, shooting him an unimpressed look, “You’re next. Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth,” Jongdae answers. There’s a resounding ‘boo’ to the left of him but Jongdae ignores Baekhyun.

 

“What is something you never told anyone, not even Minseok-hyung?”

 

And wow, that’s a loaded question. There are multiple ‘somethings’ that he has hidden from everyone, but most aren’t a fit topic for a birthday party so he plays it safe, “Min, do you remember your first day of middle school?”

 

“You mean the day I was two hours late to school because my dog got into my closet and ate all my shoes and we had to go buy new ones?” Minseok answers, an amused tilt to his lips, “Kinda hard to forget.”

 

“Well...I was the one who let the dog into your closet,” Jongdae hides his face behind his hands, embarrassment attacking him full force.

 

“What? Why?”

 

“I thought that if you had no shoes,” Jongdae parts his fingers to see the elder, “You wouldn’t be able to leave me.”

 

Obnoxious coos occur around him, accompanied by loud gagging (Baekhyun) and Jongdae reddens even further. Minseok blinks once, twice, processing exactly what Jongdae said, before a smile spreads across his face and threatens to make his cheeks ache, “Holy shit Jongdae, you are so fucking cute.”

 

“Shut up, I was scared that you would find cooler friends and abandon me,” Jongdae groans. Judging by the smug grin on Minseok’s face, Jongdae can tell he’s not going to let this go but he pushes forward to avoid further humiliation, “Moving on, Baekhyun, truth or dare?

 

Baekhyun unsurprisingly picks dare and Jongdae’s out for blood. Jongdae dares him to eat the entire cucumber they have in the fridge and Baekhyun’s expression twists into one someone would have when they were informed that they failed all their exams. But, never one to back down from a challenge, especially when goaded by Han and Chanyeol, Baekhyun is stuck gnawing on the godforsaken vegetable, pausing every so often to literally gag. 

 

And so, the cycle continues and by the time Sehun arrives, Minseok and Yifan have swapped clothes (Yifan’s impossibly long jeans having to be rolled up lest Minseok’s feet disappear in them), Chanyeol (who is now free to sit where he pleases) has a hickey on his neck courtesy to Han and Baekhyun is finally down to the last bit of the cucumber, having needed multiple breaks to burn the taste out of his mouth with straight vodka. 

 

“The baby is here!” Jongdae announces proudly, feeling floaty from the drink he has been sipping on all night, “Everyone, this is Sehunnie, he’s a first year.”

 

Sehun flushes partially from all the attention but it’s mostly due to the fact that Jongdae hangs off his arm as he introduces him to everyone. Jongdae’s cheek is warm as it leans against the ball of his shoulder and Sehun finds it hard to remember everyone’s names as the warmth travels and settles in his chest. 

 

A ball of unease forms in the pit of Yixing’s stomach as he observes the two interacting. Sehun stares at Jongdae like he isn’t sure if he wants to kiss him or bone him, the intensity increasing as he runs his hands through Jongdae’s newly blond hair when complimenting him. The discontent grows larger when Baekhyun, it being his turn, dares Sehun to take a body shot off of Jongdae rather than the typical loveshot.

 

Sehun’s heart pounds, taking a moment to digest what he was asked to do, “Um, Jongdae-hyung is that okay?”

 

“I don’t mind,” Jongdae is the definition of nonchalance, offering Sehun a comforting smile, “If you don’t want to, you can just take a shot instead.”

 

Sehun  _ does  _ want to. He’s not sure when he will get another opportunity like this one or if he ever will, he’d be an idiot not to do it, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

 

Baekhyun whoops and gets to his feet, making room on the coffee table for Jongdae to lay down. Jongdae’s shirt is hiked up until just under his ribs, the exposure of smooth skin making Sehun blatantly ogle and Yixing much more subtly.Yixing’s eyes follow the trail of dark hair from his bellybutton to the line of his jeans. Throat going dry, he swallows and wishing with every bone in his body that he was in Sehun’s place at the moment.

 

The salt tickles Jongdae’s abdomen and the lime is sour between his lips. Sehun looks at Jongdae’s face in hesitation but Jongdae wiggles his eyebrows in encouragement. The younger takes one more breath before diving in and licking a stripe along the path of salt, feeling Jongdae’s muscles clench under his tongue. Then, he downs the Tequila and bites the lime from the other’s waiting mouth. Sehun could swear that their lips brush but he doesn’t linger for fear of making things awkward.

 

Holy shit. He just did that. He just did a body shot off Kim Fucking Jongdae. He had his tongue on his abs?! Sehun all but collapses onto his chair, face burning. He’s half a second from passing out or getting a boner, or both at once. Grabbing someone’s water bottle, he drinks from it and wills himself to calm down.

 

Han catcalls when it’s over and Jongdae sits up, giving him a death stare. The latter wipes down his stomach, seemingly unaffected while Sehun wonders what exactly he has done in his past life to get so lucky. Sehun clears his throat and his head, and goes to ask the next person. The group falls back into the flow of things and in the end, no one drinks from the Cup of Death, Han pouring it down the drain as everyone gathers to leave for the club. 

 

Jongdae emerges from his room, having stated that he had to change into something more ‘appropriate’. Yixing chokes on his tongue because only inappropriate things come to mind as he clearly sees the sinuous topography of Jongdae’s torso due to the fact that  _ mesh  _ does a poor job of being a shirt. The effect is slightly toned down by the pink bomber jacket Jongdae is wearing on top yet still very, very deadly.

 

Sehun clearly notices too, eyes darkening at the sight and Yixing is tempted to zip Jongdae’s jacket up to his neck, keeping the view for his eyes only. That’s a dangerous thought, Yixing surmises, and he pushes the wave of possessiveness down, bottles it up and tightens the cap. 

 

They take two cabs, Yifan, Han (with Baekhyun on his lap), Sehun and Kyungsoo in one, and the rest in the other. Jongdae flashes his ID happily when he gets carded, finally able to use his real one after all this time. Chanyeol, Sehun, and Kyungsoo have fake ones like all good underage university students ought to have. 

 

Two-Four is a typical nightclub not far from campus. What makes it unique is the lower than average prices of alcohol. Each day it is open, it boasts a different ‘Drink of the Night’, the price of said drink usually halved. The group have taken advantage of that offer, the table of their booth littered with empty glasses, short and tall. Jongdae is well on his way to reaching the perfect ratio between throwing up all over his friends and enjoying the delicious thrum in his veins.

 

The pulse of the bass only enhances the carefree feeling enveloping Jongdae. He craves more of it, so he reaches to refill his soju but a hand on his wrist stops him. 

 

“Maybe you should stop for now Dae,” Minseok reasons. The night is still early and Jongdae doesn’t have the greatest alcohol tolerance. If he were to continue drinking at this rate, he would be passed out over their laps within half an hour. Minseok wants him to be able to enjoy his night.

 

“Fine,” Jongdae juts his bottom lip out, “I want to go dance then.”

 

“Ask Yixing to go,” Minseok suggests, inclining his head towards said man. Knowing Jongdae like the back of his hand, the way Jongdae’s eyes linger on the cling of sleeves around Yixing’s biceps is quite telling. Minseok sees the interest clear as day. Although Yixing is supposed to be Jongdae’s way of having a platonic friendship, Minseok thinks the whole idea is pointless to begin with and he’s simply indulging Jongdae at the moment and waiting for him to figure it out on is own.

 

On board with Minseok’s suggestion, Jongdae slips out of the booth and walks up to Yixing who is conversing with Han. Jongdae grabs Yixing’s forearm, “Come dance with me.”

 

Yixing stops mid sentence and looks up at Jongdae, “Sure. Let’s go.”

 

Han shrugs off the apologetic look Yixing gives him for leaving mid conversation, “What the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.”

 

A smug look crosses Jongdae’s features at the statement and he tugs Yixing along, squeezing through the throng of people. Yixing turns his hand so he can hold Jongdae’s, not wanting to lose him in the crowd. Jongdae’s hand feels so small against his, his fingertips burning against his skin. Jongdae is satisfied to confirm that Yixing’s fingers are indeed slightly rough from years of playing guitar. They settle into a small spot, Jongdae spinning around, the curve of his lips nothing but coy.

 

“So, you didn’t get me a gift,” Jongdae accuses in mock annoyance, yelling over the music.

 

“You told me that if I got you something, you would give me the wrong translations for my class notes,” Yixing reminds him of the conversation they had a few nights ago, where Yixing asked Jongdae what he wanted as a gift and the latter had gone so far as to threaten Yixing’s academic transcript so he wouldn’t buy him anything.

 

“Well I changed my mind,” Jongdae’s grin grows, “I want you to teach me how to dance.”

 

“Right now?” Yixing asks to clarify.

 

“Right now.”

 

Yixing doesn’t need to be told twice, pulling Jongdae closer. Jongdae instinctively brings his arms to rest on Yixing’s shoulders. Nerves grip the two but synth heavy music blankets them, sinks into their pores and washes all hesitation away. Each punch of the bass vibrates from the floor, into the soles of their feet and travels to the tips of their fingers. Hands curl around Jongdae’s hips, thumbs settling right above his hip bones and they guide him, lead him through the beat.

 

Jongdae isn’t a bad dancer, Yixing concludes, he’s got the basis down, beat engrained in him as a music major. Yet, there’s a natural tenseness in him that most non-dancers have. Yixing can think of many ways of forcing the tension to melt away with his mouth, his tongue...but he can’t. Jongdae is his first friend here, his mentor also. He doesn’t know if he feels the same way, feels the urge too. So he forces the urge away.

 

While Jongdae is a passable dancer, Yixing is absolutely insane; his body moving like liquid silk, as if the music creates the beat, the percussion, all to fit the movements of his body. Yixing leads, and the music mimics. Yixing leads, and Jongdae follows. Yixing lays down the foundation for him, the direction and the motion and Jongdae fills in the blanks: presses closer when needed, further when prompted.

 

The duo are bathed in purple fluorescence, the colourful light shadowing Jongdae’s eyes in a blend of magenta, shadowing his cheekbones and emphasizing their sharpness. Yixing isn’t sure if it’s the effect of makeup upon a face he already covets, or the thrum of the music blending into the alcohol in his veins, but he finds the pink of Jongdae’s lips inviting. Too inviting. So, he guides Jongdae into a turn and pulls him close, back to chest.

 

Only that’s an even bigger mistake because the swell of Jongdae’s ass brushes against him on every off beat. All the blood rushes downward rather quickly so he steps away, putting some space between them. 

 

Jongdae looks at him in questioning.

 

“We should bring everyone else to dance too,” Yixing gets out an impromptu explanation, one which Jongdae is quick to accept.

 

As they get to the table, Yixing finally realizes what Jackson meant when he said that Yixing will know who of Jongdae’s friends to worry about when he met him. He’s an idiot not to have seen it before: the way Jongdae had greeted Minseok that day on the soccer field, Han calling them soulmates. Everything clicks into place when he notices Minseok surveilling the crowd as Jongdae makes his way back. There is an obvious protectiveness in his gaze and a hidden threat too. Yet, it’s not an overprotectiveness, just something done out of caution, something done ‘just in case’. Rather, Minseok acts like a safety net, let’s Jongdae do his thing but is always there in case he slips.

 

Yixing now knows that if Minseok didn’t approve of him, he would never have a chance.

 

Clearly, while the two danced, the rest drank; Chanyeol, the most affected, sloppily leans on Baekhyun’s shoulder, at risk of teetering off if someone so much as breathed in his direction. Minseok, Kyungsoo and Yifan seem more sober than the rest. 

 

A neat row of shots filled with what looks like vodka is waiting for Jongdae when he gets there. Han pushes them closer to him, “Drink up. The night isn’t ending until you’re puking on the sidewalk.”

 

Jongdae makes a face at him but takes two, “I’ll make sure to puke on you first.”

 

Another two have him dancing on the table with a blushing Sehun while Kyungsoo tries to wrestle them both down. He succeeds but not without a struggle.

 

Evidently, the night does end with Jongdae, his knees pressed against the hard cement of the sidewalk, emptying out the wonderful lunch that he was bought earlier and most likely yesterday’s dinner too. To his great disappointment, no such puke ended up on Han, who delegated Jongdae to Minseok and Kyungsoo the moment Jongdae started looking a little nauseous.


	6. Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongdae shows Yixing around.

Minseok is carefully folding a couple pairs of jeans into a backpack, placing them at the bottom. A few t-shirts follow and he notices his favorite one is missing from the pile on his bed.

 

“Jongdae!” He calls for the most likely culprit.

 

There is the sound of socked feet padding on wooden floors and said person is peeking his head into Minseok’s room, “What is it?”

 

“Did you take my Man-U shirt?” Of course, Minseok’s   shirt is the one with the logo of Han’s favorite soccer team which Han himself gifted him.

 

“Maybe?” Jongdae tries to remember, leaning on the doorframe. “I think I wore it the other day. Let me check.”

 

Jongdae finds it in one of his drawers and finally, it joins Minseok’s other clothes in his bag. The latter is all packed and ready to head home for a few days for Chuseok. Their hometown is about a thirty-minute drive away so he’s not entirely pressed for time.

 

“Not going to destroy my shoes so I can’t leave this time?” Minseok teases, slipping on and lacing his sneakers.

 

“Shut up,” Jongdae regrets ever having chosen truth since Minseok hasn’t stopped gloating since “Just leave.”

 

“You’re not scared I’m gonna abandon you?” He nudges his shoulder and narrowly avoids a jab from Jongdae’s elbow.

 

“I said shut up,” Jongdae gets out between gritted teeth. He needs to get a new husband and contemplates letting Baekhyun, Han, and Chanyeol pick straws for the newly available spot. Actually scratch that, being married to Baekhyun sounds like a terrible idea. Han or Chanyeol it is then.

 

Minseok snickers at the disgruntled look on Jongdae’s face for a little bit before suddenly schooling his expression into a softer one, “Are you sure you don’t want to come? My mom would love it if you came. She loves you.”

 

“As she should,” Jongdae jests but it’s completely true that Minseok’s mother absolutely adored him. She watched him grow from a toothless little brat who was always convincing Minseok to sneak out or skip class to a taller brat who still persuades him to skip class from time to time, “But it’s fine Min, don’t worry okay? I made plans with Yixing today. I won’t be alone.”

 

Chuseok is an extremely family-oriented holiday, but since Jongdae isn’t on speaking terms with his parents, he usually ends up at his brother’s. This year, his brother and his wife are visiting her parents a half hour flight away in Daegu. As a result, he’s stuck at home but it doesn’t bother him too much since he has plans to show Yixing around.

 

“Are you sure? We could get out the extra futon an—”

 

“Goodbye hyung!” Jongdae shoves Minseok out the door with all his strength and shuts it behind him. Leaning against said door, he pulls out his phone and texts him.

 

[11:07am]

Dae(my wife) <3<3:

Have fun sleeping with Han ;)

 

Han is staying over at Minseok’s for a few days and Jongdae would be an idiot to miss an opportunity to tease him, especially since they will be sharing Minseok’s twin bed, which Jongdae knows from experience requires a decent amount of snuggling to fit properly.

 

Jongdae gets his response later, when he’s on the bus heading towards campus.

 

[11:32am]

Min :) <3:

Fk you

 

Jongdae’s resulting loud cackle causes all heads to turn towards him. Ignoring them, he types in a quick ‘I love you too’ with an obnoxious amount of hearts and emojis. He wiggles happily in his seat, excited to see Yixing. There’s no doubting that he has a sprouting crush on him but it’s only a bad thing if he acts on it. The two of them seem to really get along, even though it’s only been a few weeks they know each other. Time spent with Yixing, Jongdae thinks, is always time well spent. Why would he let something stupid like a small (tiny actually) crush ruin things? He’ll just ignore it and, with time, it will fade.

 

He feels like things are slowly falling into place. Yesterday, Kyungsoo came over after saying that they really needed to talk and they finally acknowledged the unspoken thing between them. The two deserved a gold medal for skirting around the topic for as long as they did. Ultimately, there wasn’t much fuss, reaching a unanimous decision for it to be simply a one-off kind of deal.

 

Kyungsoo asked, surprisingly timid, peeking over the rim of his mug, “We can still be friends right?”

 

Jongdae grinned, a mischievous curl to his lips, “You think you can get rid of me now that I know you can cook like that?”

 

He had gotten a bruised shin for that comment but it was worth seeing the cautious expression wipe off Kyungsoo’s face. Later on, when Jongdae texted the verdict to the group chat, Han’s only response was: ‘and so the collection grows...’. 

 

To which Minseok had aggressively texted a long paragraph filled with expletives and an order to ‘stop being an insensitive dickhead and apologize’.

 

Jongdae still isn’t responding to the multitude of apologetic calls and texts Han has sent him shortly afterwards. He figures a little grovelling is necessary before he forgives him.

 

The sun is high in the sky when he gets off the bus, beating down on him and warming his skin. Jongdae adjusts the baseball cap he threw on when he couldn’t get his hair to cooperate and spots Yixing waiting by the bench they designated as their meeting point.

 

Yixing is looking at his phone, picking a song to listen to as Jongdae peruses the toned lines of his body. His arms are on display from the flimsy tank top he’s wearing and Jongdae indulges himself in tracing the curve of his bicep for a few moments, Yixing not noticing his approaching presence. 

 

Jongdae softly shoves at Yixing when he’s done ogling, “Boo!”

 

The sudden greeting doesn’t surprise Yixing but it does cause him to raise his head, “Hey Jongdae.”

 

Yixing removes his earphones and pockets his phone while Jongdae bounces on his feet, weight rolling from heel to toe and back again.

 

“So where are we going?” Yixing pulls him into a brief hug.

 

“It’s a surprise!” Jongdae exclaims with enthusiasm, “Let’s just hurry. We need to be there by 12:00 or we have to wait another thirty minutes.”

 

A tall double decker tour bus awaits them when they get to their destination. Yixing stands outside, like Jongdae told him to do, while Jongdae buys their tickets at the booth.

 

“Surprise!” Jongdae says as he walks out, handing one ticket to Yixing.

 

“We’re going on a tour?” Yixing asks, taking the ticket absentmindedly, still a tad confused.

 

“Yes,”Jongdae takes out the provided pamphlet and reads off of it, “We are taking the ‘Downtown Namsan’ course with commentary provided by yours truly.”

 

Yixing cracks the prettiest smile, dimple showing up at full force, “Should I feel special?”

 

“Of course,” Jongdae winks, hoping the cloying heat of the day  is a good enough excuse for the flush of pink on his cheeks, “It’s a one of a kind experience. I did promise you I would show you around. This is part one: Seoul as tourists see it.”

 

“What’s part two?”

 

“Seoul as Jongdae lives it,” Jongdae answers as they enter the bus, coaxing Yixing to climb the stairs to the second level. The level is open-air, no windows, simply wide open space, “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Focus on today.”

 

They grab a seat near the back and Yixing takes the supplied earphones that provide an in-ear guide of the sights throughout the tour but Jongdae slaps it out of his hands, “I’m the tour guide. You don’t need those.”

 

And Jongdae does offer a narration of the places they visit, speaking lowly in Yixing’s ear as the wind ruffles his hair. Albeit, the facts are sometimes off but Yixing finds it all too endearing when Jongdae stumbles over the year the palace gate they stood in front of was constructed or mixes up who exactly the statue they were looking at depicted. 

 

Jongdae is still pouting at Yixing telling him to go retake his high school history when they get off at their next stop. 

 

“Where are we on the map Jongdae?” Yixing tries to read said map given at the beginning of the tour that shows their route but struggles with the Hangul, still a little shaky with reading comprehension. 

 

“Do you really want the help of someone who needs to retake 9th grade history?” Jongdae teases, straight brow quirking.

 

“Yes Jongdae, please,” Yixing begs. He has a headache building in his right temple from all the attempts at deciphering the different vowels.

 

“I’m kidding,” Jongdae nudges Yixing playfully, “Put the map away. We’re at Namdaemun Market.”

 

“Oh, I heard of it,” Yixing folds it into his pocket, “...I think.”

 

“I’m sure you have. Now, let’s go find some food! I’m starving.”

 

A street or two down, a row of street food stands reside on both sides of the pathway, practically begging for Yixing and Jongdae to take advantage of them. And take advantage they do, Jongdae forcing Yixing to order at nearly every stand to practice his formal speech and pressing an encouraging hand into the curve of Yixing’s lower back when he has to take a little longer than usual to conjugate.

 

They somehow manage to carry all the skewers and small containers between the two of them and find a bench nearby so they can eat comfortably. The struggle is evident when Jongdae tries to take a bite of his potato hot dog skewer and nearly ends up stabbing himself in the eye with the others tightly clutched between his fingers.

 

Yixing snorts loudly as Jongdae stares at the food in his hands, clearly trying to figure out how to satisfy his hunger without blinding himself in the process. Taking pity on him, Yixing shuffles his own food around, making room for more, “Here pass me some.”

 

Jongdae hands them over without question and takes a chunk out of the steaming potato that causes him to groan indecently. Jongdae is too concentrated on devouring it to notice Yixing’s ears tinge pink. It’s too good to keep to himself since a few moments later he’s holding it out for Yixing to take a decently large chunk out of.

 

The hot dog is the perfect amount of salty and hot and the potatoes crisp. They work through them rather quickly, Yixing passing Jongdae one for the latter to feed the both of them and it’s startlingly intimate. Neither of them comment on it, though the tension is clearly noticeable, it’s still light enough to sweep under the rug. Soon enough, the result of their effort is an impressive pile of wooden sticks and empty plastic containers.

 

Disposing of the garbage, they head back to the bus after a few rounds of walking around the market and taking in the sights.

 

Jongdae all but collapses in his seat, hiking up his shirt and rubbing at his stomach, “I am sooo full.”

 

It’s not surprising as Jongdae nearly ate twice the amount as Yixing did, “It was worth it though.”

 

Jongdae makes a sound of content, leaning his head onto Yixing’s shoulder. He doesn’t notice Yixing stiffening slightly at the casual touch.

 

“Soooo worth it.”

 

Clearly, they’re not full enough for the fried chicken restaurant they slip into after taking the cable car up to Namsan tower and abandoning the rest of the tour to sate their hunger. They bought a cheesy pink lock (with a cheesy “To New Friendships :) <3 -YX & JD” written on it in Yixing’s careful penmanship) after Jongdae insisted that going to said tower as a tourist and not placing a lock somewhere was blasphemous. 

 

They chat idly between mouthfuls of ‘sweet sauce glazed bites of orgasmic goodness’ (Jongdae’s words) and sigh at the following slide of cold beer down their throats. The beer, one and a half for Jongdae since he’s still recovering from the ordeal that was his birthday, and two plus Jongdae’s other half for Yixing, loosens them up a bit. The conversation begins as seemingly lighthearted but quickly takes a turn.

 

“So why aren’t you celebrating Chuseok with your family? I’m sure you’re not here with me cause you want to be, regardless of how much you enjoy my company,” It’s an innocent question really, practically begging to be asked, softened by the playful tone Yixing takes on.

 

Jongdae also knows that Yixing would never ask something to be purposely insensitive, “Um, we’re not exactly...on good terms.”

 

Jongdae averts his eyes, studying the subtle linear pattern on the white tablecloth. The subject never fails to cause a lump to grow in his throat, one decreasing in size as time goes by, yet ever present. A warm hand reaching across the table to cover his own makes him jolt slightly, raising his gaze to meet Yixing’s, which is absolutely filled with so much sympathy that Jongdae can’t swallow for a whole other reason. 

 

Jongdae clears his throat and speaks before Yixing can do something stupid like apologize, “It’s okay though, really. I have my brother and Minseok, all my friends too, they’re more than enough.”

 

Yixing knows a dismissal when he hears one so he grasps onto the prompt of a new topic, “That’s good, I’m glad,” Cue a heartwarming squeeze of Jongdae’s hand, “How did you and Minseok-ge meet?”

 

Jongdae gratefully squeezes back, thumb pressing into Yixing’s, “In elementary school, I basically bothered him until he fell for my irresistible charm.”

 

“What kind of charm does a little kid have?” Yixing chuckles, definitely able to picture a young energetic Jongdae annoying an older yet still young and subdued Minseok.

 

“No clue, but it clearly worked cause we’re still here thirteen years later,” Jongdae shrugs, taking a gulp of water.

 

“Clearly,” Yixing agrees, then rolls the next words around on his tongue, trying to figure out the best way to word the thing that has been gnawing at his curiosity since his realization at Jongdae’s birthday, “He seems really...protective of you.”

 

Jongdae snorts, rolling his eyes fondly, “That’s the understatement of the year. Honestly, it’s partly the fault of both our parents and partly because of who he is as a person.”

 

At the questioning hum that escapes Yixing, Jongdae elaborates, “Okay, picture this, little seven year old me, always scrapping it out on the playground with the bigger kids, running from the teachers on field trips, etc. I honestly drove my parents and every person with the slightest sense of responsibility nuts. Enter Minseok, older, much more mature, a cute little teacher’s pet. He was the perfect child honestly. So obviously, when I brought him over for a playdate the first time, my parents were ecstatic.”

 

“I respected the hell out of him. He was the cool hyung that always found the time to play with me even though he could actually be using that time to play soccer with his own friends. I was a little starstruck to be honest. Our parents noticed this and took advantage, always giving him a long speech about how he should ‘always watch out for Jongdae’. And it just stuck. Only, he realized I was too hard headed to actually control so he went along with my sense of adventure but always stayed the voice of reason.”

 

“And did you listen to him?” Yixing asks, an amused grin on his face.

 

“Nope,” Jongdae says bluntly, popping the ‘p’, “The times I didn’t listen I ended up with a broken arm from falling out of a tree or a bloody knees and elbows from trying to ride my bike while standing up on it. Eventually I just realized that Minseok hyung was usually right about things. But that still doesn’t mean I suddenly started listening. It was more like I acknowledged his opinion before ignoring them but hey, it’s more than what I’ve done for anyone else.”

 

“Wow, you sound like you were such a wild kid. I was pretty quiet honestly. Maybe a bit like Minseok, never really causing trouble. Not because I was mature or anything but because I was always playing alone with my imaginary friends instead,” Yixing shakes his head in mirth at the memory, “What about now? Do you follow Minseok’s advice now?”

 

“I’d be lying if I said yes,” Jongdae laughs a pretty laugh, eyes akin to crescent moons, “I’m too stubborn. It’s really a problem but he does give less advice since I’m a lot less keen on endangering my life now. So that’s definitely an improvement. But enough about me, I’ve been talking too much. How about you? I’m sure you had friends that weren’t imaginary.”

 

“Sure I did,” Yixing responds, retracting his hand to wrap it around the neck of his beer bottle and take a swig. Only now does Jongdae realize that they’ve been quasi holding hands the entire time and he feels strangely cold. He rests his hand on his thigh, in an attempt to replicate the warmth, but it’s a poor substitute.

 

Unaware of the intense eyes following the bob of his Adam’s apple, Yixing continues on, bottle making a small clink when it settles back onto the table, “Honestly, I was really shy so I didn’t make a lot of friends. The friends I did make were ones that I only spoke to during school or hung out with at lunchtime. I spent most of my time with my grandmother, helping around the house or her teaching me how to play piano or cook.”

 

“That’s so sweet,” Jongdae coos, “You sound really close.”

 

“Mhm, we are. She’s basically my mom. Since my parents were always busy with work, she raised me.”

 

“How did she feel about you coming here? I mean was she worried or anything?” Jongdae leans back into his chair, upper back pressing into the top of it. The alcohol in his veins is filtering and fading and he motions for the waitress to bring them another two beers, seeing Yixing’s only has a gulp or two left.

 

“Only the normal amount I guess,” Yixing responds once Jongdae’s full attention is back on him, “She’s always encouraged me to take risks and not let anything hold me back. Actually, she was the first one on board with the idea of me going into dance. I’m sure you can understand how a career in this industry isn’t always the most stable thing but she didn’t care.”

 

Yixing tells him how he came home one day from the short walk from school telling his grandmother about the dancer he had seen performing in the street. The sheer awe and passion he held for the idea persuaded her to enroll him in dance classes the very next day. And that was that. She had walked him to and from the academy two times a week, every week until finally he got old enough to make the trek alone. Then, she made sure to always occupy the front seat at his performances. 

 

At the age of twelve, she saw him eyeing a pretty, sleek acoustic guitar propped up in the display window during one of their visits to the shopping district. The next day, he came home to find it sitting on his bed. 

 

A few months ago, she saw the application for the exchange student program in Seoul open on his laptop. She filled it in, paid the fees and a plane ticket purchase confirmation sat in his email inbox for him to see later that night. 

 

He owes her everything. He wants to make her proud, to show her all the effort she put into him isn’t wasted. When he voices this to Jongdae,  the latter gives him in response a look so earnest it has Yixing’s breath hitching in his lungs.

 

“I don’t know if I can speak for her but I’m willing to bet anything that she already is,” Jongdae brushes his foot along Yixing’s calf beneath the table, “because you sound so happy, look so happy doing this too, and I’m sure that’s enough to make her the proudest person in the world.”

 

Yixing doesn’t even know how to even begin to formulate an answer to that, eyes stinging and chest so full that he feels like it might actually burst. He hopes that intertwining their legs, taking Jongdae’s between his own, is enough to express his gratitude. 

 

It seems to be because he’s graced with a pretty set of teeth, curled lips that already have a natural curl and the upward tilt of straight brows. The conversation takes a lighter turn after that, Yixing’s mind so busy with the statement and the resulting feelings that he’s not sure he could handle anything heavy. Jongdae clearly senses it, showing him Han’s desperate texts that he sent throughout the day at almost regular intervals. Yixing convinces him to take pity on him and finally answer because the despair seems to rise with every one.  

 

Han texts him not two seconds later and they both laugh at the amounts of hearts sent.

 

They split the bill and head back. Jongdae doesn’t want the night to end so he walks Yixing to the front of his dorm.

 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay getting home?” Yixing asks, a concerned scrunch between his brows.

 

It’s pushing on midnight so it’s not too late but his worry makes something concerning flip in Jongdae’s chest, “I’ll be fine ge, don’t worry. The bus comes in four minutes so I won’t even wait long.”

 

Yixing is appeased by that and nods before pulling Jongdae into a tight hug. It isn’t the first time they’ve hugged but something feels different, like the air between them has shifted, weighed down by cumulative events. The arms around Jongdae’s shoulders constrict momentarily and he reciprocates, squeezing at Yixing’s waist. They separate before the temptation to linger for longer than appropriate arises, Yixing’s cologne staying in Jongdae’s nose. It is a masculine scent but not overly so, understated yet still more than enough to make Jongdae’s toes curl in his shoes.

 

“Text me when you get home,” Yixing all but orders, a curve in his lips undermining his sternness.

 

“Will do,” And Jongdae turns on his heels, unaware of the way Yixing lingers for a few moments, watching him go before he disappears down a bend. 

 

Jongdae is walking back to the bus stop, humming along to the song playing from his earphones and trying to digest the melting pot of emotions he’s feeling, when he spots a familiar tall and broad-shouldered figure, “Oh Sehun!”

 

Said figure whirls around, plastic bag in his hand arcing through the air along with him, “Jongdae-hyung?”

 

“Hey,” Jongdae jogs the small distance to catch up to the younger, “What’s up?”

 

“Just bought some snacks,” Sehun presents his plastic bag with the telltale 7/11 logo on it, “Gonna watch few movies.”

 

“Didn’t Kyungsoo leave this morning?” Jongdae furrows his brow, “You’re not going home too?”

 

“Yup, Kyungsoo-hyung left,” Sehun offers him a small sad smile, “No, my parents are out of the country, too busy with work to remember they have a son.”

 

Jongdae grabs Sehun’s unoccupied hand and gives it a squeeze, “I get it Sehun-ah. My parents are too busy being homophobic so I’m here too.”

 

At that, Sehun’s smile appears more thankful than sad and Jongdae considers it a win, “Do you want to come join my pity-party then? There’s definitely room for one more.”

 

Jongdae pretends to mull over the request, “That depends, what are we watching?”

 

“Well I was halfway through Iron Man 1 when I ran out of chips,” Sehun feels Jongdae let go of his hand but can’t find it in himself to be disappointed because the lingering warmth is enough for his heart to persist in its rapid pace, “I was thinking of watching the marvel movies in chronological order.”

 

“Okay, but on one condition, you need to answer this question properly,” Sehun nods his head ‘yes’ and Jongdae’s lips curl wickedly, “Team Cap or Team Iron Man?”

 

Sehun looks at Jongdae in utter disbelief, “That’s not even a question. Team Iron Man all the way!”

 

“Finally, someone with an actual brain!” Satisfied, Jongdae begins walking towards Sehun’s dorm building, “You are coming to our next movie night. I need to tip the balance in our favour.”

 

Jongdae explains that Baekhyun and Han are diehard supporters of Captain America. Himself and Chanyeol are on Iron Man’s side and Minseok honestly couldn’t care less. Sehun is perfect because if he attended they would have the majority vote, 3 to 2. 

 

“Sure, I’d love to come hyung,” Sehun watches Jongdae expressively recount the numerous, and sometimes physical arguments, he would get into over the issue. A happy sigh leaves his lips.

 

The two are glad they won’t be spending the night in an empty apartment. Their impending loneliness isn’t so overbearing anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all enjoyed the 1 on 1 xingdae time :) this was one of my favourite chapters to write


	7. Blind Side

Sehun’s dorm is rather quiet save for the sounds coming from his tv. Sehun and Jongdae are fulfilling their goal of watching movies, only they’ve moved on from marvel ones the second day. If they plan to have a group movie night, it isn’t always fun to have watched said movies so soon beforehand. Instead, they’ve decided to entertain themselves with some classic Japanese horror. It’s a seemingly great idea since Jongdae is an avid horror fan but it turns out, Sehun is not.

 

Sehun hides it quite well, only jumping and cringing and hiding his face in Jongdae’s shoulder the expected amount. In comparison to Jongdae watching a horror movie with Chanyeol, who knocks over their popcorn and coke and usually ends up cowering in his lap by the end of it, Sehun is practically a godsend.

 

“Hyung,” Sehun whines cutely, the intense scene coming to an end and the screen lighting up with the much anticipated (by Sehun and the characters in the film) morning sun, “How are you not scared?”

 

“I don’t know Sehun,” Jongdae shrugs, not at all affected by any of the ominous music or gory scenes, “I don’t find them that scary.”

 

Sehun looks like he’s going to ask something else but a sudden sound makes him squeak and retreat behind his hands, only leaving tiny cracks to see what’s going on. But Jongdae will reiterate: he will take squeaks over wayward limbs and possible elbows to the face any day.

 

Jongdae is singing a different song when night comes and Sehun all but begs him to sleep with him as Jongdae makes to go to Kyungsoo’s room like he did the first night. Sehun is all kinds of adorable, well over six-feet tall, nice wide shoulders and a very mature looking face, one would easily mistake Jongdae as the younger one especially with how tiny Jongdae looks in general, but also next to him especially. Yet, in this moment, he fully takes advantage of his role as the younger and Jongdae really can’t deny his pout.

 

Sehun is terrible to share a bed with. He has sharp elbows and his broad shoulders are practically the width of his twin bed(slight exaggeration) and his long limbs take up all the rest of that space. Jongdae thanks the stars for making him small enough to somehow wiggle his way in and still fit somewhat comfortably. If he were the slightest bit larger, this wouldn’t have worked. As it was, Jongdae is practically hanging off the side of the bed and Sehun seems very intent on not making them touch more than needed, trying to put space between them when there is almost none to spare

 

Jongdae finds that a bit odd since during the day Sehun had no hold ups about being clingy. A tad irritated, he decides to take matters into his own hands, “Sehun, I’m not going to bite you. Just put your arm around me or something. This isn’t gonna work otherwise.”

 

Sehun gulps, face feeling warm since Jongdae is in his bed, looking all soft in Kyungsoo’s pyjamas, “Okay.”

 

He reaches tentatively, resting his arm around Jongdae’s shoulders. Unsatisfied, Jongdae grabs said arm and pulls him closer until Sehun’s chin is nearly above his head. The smell of Jongdae’s shampoo is light and fresh and Sehun nearly sighs before he remembers himself.

 

“Relax a bit,” Jongdae mumbles into the bedsheets, the weight of the day pressing his eyelids shut, “It’s just spooning.”

 

And it is just spooning, albeit a more PG variation where Jongdae’s ass isn’t pressed into Sehun. Which Sehun is thankful for because nothing would be more embarrassing than getting an unwanted boner. Regardless, Sehun doesn’t actually have an easier time sleeping since his heart is racing for reasons other than fear.

 

Jongdae heads back to his own apartment the next day, after heating up the leftovers Kyungsoo left Sehun for breakfast and eating them at the table with the younger. Minseok should be coming home within the hour, since the next day, they would all have to go back to the real world and attend classes again.

 

Jongdae figures he probably has enough time to get started on his ‘Music and Film’ paper, so he sets himself up at his desk and boots up his shiny new laptop (which starts up in a tenth of the time it took his old one, minus the worrying sounds too). He can see his goofy grin in the reflection of the black screen, gratefulness warming up his chest for the millionth time. It recurs every time he uses his laptop and piano or even just glances at them.

 

Headphones on and document open, he types away to the sound of an album, only pausing to get a glass of water once he’s written the first few paragraphs. He shifts his weight from one leg to another, mindlessly perusing the to-do list stuck to the side of their fridge, Minseok being the only one who bothers to properly update it. An unattractive snort leaves him at the obnoxious point at the bottom of the list that says to buy Baekhyun a new car :) , which is clearly not written by Minseok. Jongdae makes to erase it with his finger when the door to the apartment opens, Han and Minseok stepping in.

 

Jongdae goes to greet the two but stops short when he notices something...odd. Minseok is untying his shoelaces, staring up at Han beneath his lashes with a coy little grin. Han slips off his sneakers and the two are making casual inconspicuous conversation, saying something along the lines of how next time, they should maybe take a road trip out of the city. Han’s features are softened with fondness, edges and lines smoothed out and grow even smoother still when Minseok agrees, grin stretching into a happy gummy smile. No one even realizes Jongdae standing there, leaning into the wall with his arms crossed and an amused pull to his lips.

 

“So, you finally kissed him hyung?” Jongdae makes an educated guess and leaves no doubts about who he is addressing: Minseok is his hyung, Han is his ge, there’s a difference, at least to him.

 

The two startle as Jongdae’s voice cuts through their personal little bubble. Minseok looks proud when he answers, “You bet I did.”

 

Jongdae crosses the small space between them to encircle his arms around both their necks and pulls them into the tightest hug he can manage, “I’m so happy I won’t have to hear you guys whine about each other anymore.”

 

Minseok makes an insulted sound and Han pinches Jongdae’s side in retaliation to his snide comment, Jongdae flinching and trying to squirm away but the other two work in tandem, Minseok holding him in a vice like grip and Han continuing his assault on Jongdae’s sides. Jongdae’s cries for them to let him go fall on deaf ears.

 

Afterward, Jongdae rubs at the tender skin as Han sets up their gaming console for him and Minseok to play some Fifa. Jongdae much prefers Rockband, but with two soccer lovers playing he was easily overruled.

 

“Hey, wait, why did you assume Minseok was the one who made the first move?” Han stops what he’s doing, video game disc in his hand, to look at Jongdae comfortably lounging.

 

“I just had a feeling,” Jongdae replies, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, “So what happened? And don’t you dare hold out on any details, I’ve been emotionally invested in you two for years!!”

 

Han blushes softly when he shoots a quick glance at Minseok before reverting his attention to Jongdae, “I guess it wasn’t anything over the top or extreme. I just…”

 

Han buries his face with his hands and exhales loudly, then speaks, voice muffled by his palms, “You tell him.”

 

Minseok’s lips have a loving quirk at the corner, clearly a result of seeing Han so flustered, “Okay, well like he said, everything was normal. It was the second night and we were talking before bed. It started to get late so we said we should sleep—”

 

“—only my dumb ass thought it was smart to ask where my goodnight kiss was. It was a joke! I didn’t expect him to take me up on it,” Han is slightly recovered from his minor breakdown but there’s still a stubborn red flush on his cheeks.

 

“So yeah,” Minseok chuckles lightly, “I just saw the chance and took it. Then we made out a bit, but stopped it there, I wasn’t going to go any further with my freaking Changmin poster staring at me and my parents right across the hall.”

 

“Oh shit yeah, good idea,” Jongdae remembers the layout of Minseok’s room, “Maybe putting Changmin on your ceiling wasn’t the greatest idea hyung. I always had trouble sleeping because of that. His eyes are intense.”

 

Han has a mischievous glint in his eye, one that Jongdae knows means nothing good, “But your actual room doesn’t have any posters on the walls…”

 

And this is Jongdae’s cue to leave, “Well, I have to finish writing my paper. So you guys can do whatever you want. Just keep it down, I need to concentrate.”

 

They only make noncommittal sounds at him as he heads to his room and he takes comfort in the fact that his headphones are noise-cancelling.

 

* * *

  
  


The next day has Jongdae in the library, editing and fine tuning his essay since he actually did get a decent bit done last night. He fixes up his intro to his taste and finally turns to acknowledge Baekhyun, who has been sitting next to him the past ten minutes or so, all his attempts at conversation being stopped in their path by the finger that Jongdae holds up.

 

Baekhyun jumps at the implicit permission to speak, “So, Minseok hyung and Han hyung….”

 

The couple had informed the group chat of their change in relationship status this morning. Needless to say, Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s reactions were rather enthusiastic.

 

“I know,” Jongdae sighs heavily, stretching over the back of the chair, “Fucking finally. I swear I was a step away from just locking them in a closet together until they confessed.”

 

“Ugh same, Han can get really intense during his rambles about how much he loves his Minseokkie,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes, getting out another of his own heavy textbooks and practically slamming it onto the table.

 

Jongdae gives Baekhyun the most intense unimpressed look he could muster.

 

Baekhyun gets the hint, “Shit, I’m preaching to the choir. I can only imagine how it must have felt dealing with that shit from both sides.”

 

“It was torture. I deserve to be paid as their therapist. Or at least compensated for all the stress they put me through. Once they hung out together and afterwards I had to deal with the whole lovestruck thing from Minseok while Han was texting me almost the same thing at the exact same time. I was so tempted to just show Minseok the damn messages so I could get them to shut up,” Jongdae plops his head down onto the desk, pillowing it with his arm, “But they are really cute, so I can’t be mad anymore.”

 

“True, they’re adorable,” Baekhyun takes a bite of the cookie he brought with him despite the sign that said **No Eating** right beside them, “Not as adorable as we were though. I was very romantic, if I do say so myself.”

 

Jongdae let’s out a laugh loud enough to earn him a glare from the students around him, “You? Romantic??”

 

“Uh yes, I’d say I’m the king of romance,” Baekhyun affirms, undeterred by Jongdae’s disbelief.

 

“Baek…” Jongdae exhales heavily, leaning his head on his hand, “On our anniversary you stuck a bow on my ass and told me that I didn’t even need to get you a present cause it was already a gift to society.”

 

“That’s so smooth no?” Baekhyun cracks a proud smile, remembering said moment and shaking his head incredulously, “Really outdid myself there.”

  
“Oh of course. Yes, it was really the pinnacle of all romance. You should sell your ideas to YA novelists. They’d eat them up,” Jongdae does nothing to hide the sardonic drip to his words, “...on second thought, that wouldn’t work because the only place your romantic ideas belong is in a cheap porno.”

 

“They worked on you. Didn’t they?” Baekhyun throws back.  


“Somehow, they did,” Jongdae laughs to himself, “But you say that like our whole relationship wasn’t one big cheap porno. I mean the first words you ever said to me were ‘My name’s Baekhyun, in case you wanted to know what to scream out tonight.’”

 

“Man that was a pretty good line,” Baekhyun pats himself on the shoulder and Jongdae wonders what he ever saw in him, “But also take out the cheap part. You’re definitely a high class porn star. One that makes 45 000$ a shoot and flies everywhere on a private jet. Has their ass cheeks insured too.”

 

Jongdae stares at Baekhyun for a long time, not exactly processing what he was just told, “Baekhyun...that was the sweetest yet grossest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

 

“Told you I’m romantic Dae.”

 

“In your own way, I guess you are,” Jongdae has to give him that.

 

Just then, Chanyeol slips into the chair beside Jongdae, coming from his composition class, “Hey guys, what did I miss?”  


Jongdae pats Chanyeol’s forearm as a greeting, letting out an exasperated sigh as he fills him in, “Baek just called me a porn star.”  


Chanyeol’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?

 

Jongdae shakes his head in confusion, wondering the exact same thing, “Well he called me one of those high end ones so I’m leaning more towards compliment but I still have no clue.”

 

“I’m talking about the ones with, you know, the exaggerated prices, only showing up on official premium accounts, all that good stuff,” Baekhyun elaborates further, dropping cookie crumbs everywhere, and all it does is make Jongdae want to bash him in the head with his textbook.

 

“I mean...” Chanyeol trails off for a moment, “If he was one, he would definitely be one of those.”

 

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted right now,” Jongdae groans, kicking Chanyeol under the table for encouraging Baekhyun. He’s satisfied at the yelp the other let’s out.

 

“I’d be flattered for sure,” Baekhyun’s waves off his complaints to go further down the rabbit hole, “What would your name be?  


“Guys enough, we’re off topic now! We came here to get some work done,” Jongdae’s patiences runs out exactly at this moment, “and Baek you’d make a much better porn star than I ever would.

 

Baekhyun preens for a few moments as if that is the biggest compliment someone could ever pay him, which, knowing Baekhyun, it probably was, “...wait, what would my name be then?”

 

Jongdae wants to tear his hair out, “I’d just give you Byuntae. Baek Byuntae. Now shut up and study!”

 

“Hey,” Baekhyun plasters on the most sleazy grin he can possibly manage, “Look at you being all assertive. It’s kinda hot. Don’t you think Chan?”

 

“Baekhyun...I swear to god, if you don’t shut up I will strangle you,” Jongdae counts to five in his head, taking a few calming breaths. The last thing he needs is to actually go through with that threat and end up banned from the library. It is one of favourite study spots, quiet, and he discovered the perfect little nook at the far end in his first year, hidden away from the world, his friends having been unable to find it without his direct help. He can’t lose it over something dumb like Baekhyun.

 

“Damn, you really pull out all the stops. Well I’m never one to turn down some erotic asphyxiation so maybe I won’t shut up,” Baekhyun whistles and his irritating presence seems to quadruple in size, “Wait! I just realized a perfect name for you. Jongdaddy!”

  
“It’s a hot name but Jongdae’s not really daddy material…” Chanyeol puts in his two cents, noticing the deadly glare Jongdae is sending Baekhyun. Hoping to defuse the situation, he steers the subject into another directions, throwing a line in hopes that Baekhyun will latch on,  “But you know who is? That lit major who hangs around with Kyungsoo… Junmyeon? Like he’s small but I bet he could bend me over and make me cry.”

 

Like a kid who just had candy dangled in his face, Baekhyun pounces onto the subject, “Goddamn that man, he makes all of my teacher kinks from high school resurface. He’s a tutor…” Insert a heavy sigh, “What I would give to be taking any of the classes he covers so he could help me with them. Jongdae, you of all people would know what tutoring sessions could lead to.”

 

And the relief that Jongdae was feeling dissipates immediately as he’s once again being annoyed.

 

“Of course he does,” This time Chanyeol teams up with Baekhyun, adding on to the frustration burning at Jongdae, “Being stuck with each other for a few hours in a quiet place, frustrations running high. What is better than taking out those frustrations on each other? Hmm Jongdae?”

 

“I hate you,” Jongdae gets up from his chair, only slightly wincing at the grating sound it makes as its legs scrape across the floor. He starts to tidy up, folding up his laptop and sliding it in his bag, then starting on his notes, “I hate you both. I’m going to study somewhere where I’m not surrounded by idiots.”

 

“Oh shit Baekhyun, I think we made daddy mad,” Chanyeol obnoxiously snickers into his palm.

 

“Oh no! I hope he doesn’t spank us,” Baekhyun adds and he slaps his thigh, unable to contain his laughter.

  
“You guys are gross. I’m no one's daddy,” Jongdae retorts, zippering his now full bag.

  
“Not with that attitude, you’re not.”

  
“I don’t ever want to be one…” Jongdae huffs in frustration and slings his bag over his shoulder, “Why do I even put up with you two?   


“Cause you love us,” Baekhyun coos, drawing out the ‘us’ and fluttering his lashes obnoxiously.

  
“Debatable,” Jongdae says before spinning on his heels and begins putting as much distance between himself and his friends as he can.

 

“Stop trying to deny your love for us Kim Jongdae!” Chanyeol shouts to said man’s retreating figure and Jongdae flinches at how much it echoes in the wide open space. He shoots them the finger and doesn’t wait for a response before walking into the already open elevator. The other student has already picked the number for his floor so he leans against the back of elevator and texts Yixing, asking him if he was free at the moment. The door dings, indicating that they arrived on the main floor, Jongdae stepping out and waiting for Yixing’s reply.

 

* * *

  
  


On the highest floor of the Music building, a dance room is in use. The large professional-grade speakers, which are connected to a phone, emit bass-heavy music at a volume that drowns out any other possible noise. Yixing is engulfed by the song, all senses focusing on the dance with needlepoint precision. Eyes trained on his own reflection, he bobs his head on time with the muted hits of the kick and snare beat. After two counts of eight, the beat growing crystal clear by the end, and Yixing’s body sharpens yet is smooth all at once.

 

The roll of his body, the point of his toe, the arch of his spine, all are perused by eyes fine-tuned by years of experience, able to spot any minute deviation from the assigned choreography. A turn on the ball of his foot, and he stops immediately, noticing an oddity in his reflection. He goes to his phone and rewinds the song to do over that segment again. And he does it.

 

Again. And again. And again. And again,

 

Repeats it until the sequence of choreography is engrained in him, muscle memory performing that set of movements like a seamless, well-oiled machine. Only then does he continue with the rest of the song, repeating that too until sweat collects between his shoulder blades, rolls down the curve of his spine.

 

Marginally satisfied, he takes a water break, grabbing the bottle from the table and unplugging his phone from the aux cord. A notification is on his screen, received 9 minutes ago. His heart stutters in his chest at the sight of Jongdae’s name but he passes off as a natural byproduct of the rigourous dancing he just subjected himself to. An involuntary smile tugs at his lips as he answers, inviting Jongdae to join him in the studio. Jongdae responds that he’ll be there shortly and Yixing downs the rest of his water as he waits.

 

Jongdae peers through the doorway of the practice room not long after, showcasing a broad grin when he spots Yixing sitting cross-legged, back resting against the way, “Hey ge.”

 

“Hey,” Yixing says back, patting the floor next to him.

 

Jongdae takes him up on his offer, slipping his bag off his shoulder and plopping down onto the wood flooring.

 

“So what’s with the sudden visit? Didn’t you have to do some work today?” Yixing asks but Jongdae is slightly distracted by the blunt of Yixing’s collarbones and the way small trickles of sweat follow the slope of his neck to settle into the hollow created by them.

 

After a breath, Jongdae averts his eyes from the tantalizing skin Yixing’s flimsy tank top enjoys flaunting, “Um, I was trying to but Baekhyun and Chanyeol were being really distracting.”

 

“Like usual,” Yixing comments, amusement clear in the tilt of his brow and the quick peek-a-boo of his dimple.

 

“Like usual,” Jongdae agrees, allowing himself to lean slightly closer, their shoulders brushing, “but, usually, when I study with them productivity happens in waves. We fool around for a while, then we focus, then we fool around again, and repeat until we’re done or we have to leave.”

 

“So this time there was not enough focusing?” Yixing inquires, pressing closer and now Jongdae can feel the heat of his bare skin through the sleeve of his t-shirt.

 

“No, it’s not that,” Jongdae shakes his head, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, “I don’t know what it was actually. I just didn’t have as much patience today I guess.”

 

Yixing hums softly in acknowledgement, gaze travelling far away for a moment before he gets to his feet suddenly, offering his hands to Jongdae, “Get up, I want to teach you how to dance some more.”

 

Jongdae looks taken aback by the sudden offer, “What? Why?”

 

“You were drunk off your ass last time, and I could barely teach you properly with all those people around,” Yixing explains, “So come on, let’s go at it again.”

 

Jongdae takes Yixing’s hands and the latter pulls him up with ease, releasing only one and leading Jongdae to the center of the room with the other. Only, a ringtone cuts things short, the both of their eyes shooting to the pocket of Jongdae’s jeans. Jongdae gets out his phone and checks the Caller-ID, brows furrowing when he sees his brother’s name of the screen. It’s odd since, during the week, his brother is always at work at this time and usually doesn’t have time to call.

 

Jongdae answers it quickly, “Hey hyung, what’s up?”

 

Jongdeok takes a moment to respond and when he does, his voice is strangely sullen, “Jongdae…I have some really bad news.”

 

And Jongdae doesn’t realize that his grip tightens around Yixing’s hand, doesn’t even realize that he’s still holding it, until he feels Yixing squeeze back.


	8. Slightest

The thing with life, is that when things finally start to go right, it just has to throw something else at you. Jongdae’s heart feels like it’s fallen to the ground, blood rushing through his ears. Yixing’s concern is palpable and Jongdae feels a little less like his legs are going to collapse under him when Yixing places his other hand atop their already linked ones. 

 

“Hyung, can you repeat that?” Jongdae’s own voice sounds far away, as if his ears are stuffed with cotton. Yet, the way it shakes is impossible to miss. A thumb strokes the back of his hand and it helps smooth some of the tension away.

 

“Jongdae, I lost my job,” His brother’s voice isn’t any more stable and the apologetic tone it takes on makes teeth sink into Jongdae’s inner cheek, “They were downsizing and letting people go and I was one of them. I’m so sorry Jongdae. I won’t be able to afford your fees. I have enough to cover this semester but only this one. God, and I didn’t want to tell you this way but Sooyun is pregnant. We just found out a few days ago. She’s been getting headaches because of it so she has to work less hours too. Everything is happening at worst time, I’m so so—”

 

“Hyung, if you apologize one more time I’m hanging up on you,” Jongdae takes a heavy breath and feels satisfied when his brother stops talking, “Don’t worry, ok? There’s this scholarship that I can apply for, the deadline hasn’t passed yet. I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself you know? I’m an adult now,” There are protests over the line but Jongdae keeps going, stern, “Look, you have a baby on the way. My future nephew or niece is your priority. Don’t worry about me okay? I’m not a child anymore. Focus on finding a new job, baby clothes and diapers don’t come cheap. I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be  _ fine _ .”

 

An incredulous laugh tinted with fondness resounds, “When did you start growing up Jongdae-ah?”

 

“I’ve always been plenty grown,” Jongdae defends himself but also doesn’t miss an opportunity to tease the other, “You were too busy chasing after noona all these years to notice.”

 

“Maybe you’re right,” Jongdeok sighs heavily, “I need to go pick her up now actually. Driving gets her tired. You should come over for dinner soon. She misses you. I miss you too.”

 

“Of course,” Jongdae says softly, “so do I, just let me know when…and hyung, congratulations, you’re going to make a great father.”

 

They say their heartfelt goodbyes and Jongdae doesn’t even notice he’s shaking until Yixing is in front of him, pulling him into a tight hug and Jongdae just melts into it. He tucks his nose into Yixing’s neck and takes a few shuddering breaths, shutting his eyes and letting the familiar scent calm him.

 

“What happened?” Yixing asks, whispering the words into Jongdae’s hair.

 

“My brother, he…” Jongdae curls his fingers into the fabric Yixing’s shirt, “he lost his job and he’s paying for everything. I need to find a job now. There is no scholarship. I don’t even know how I’m going to afford everything. How am I going to find the time? I have a full course load and the final projects are going to be announced soon and—”

 

“Hey,” Yixing grabs Jongdae by the shoulders and forces him to look at him, interrupting his rambling, “Breathe okay? I’m sure we can figure this out. What if you find a job but also ask Minseok to help you with the rent? I’m sure he won’t say no.”

 

"No—no absolutely not," Jongdae is adamant, voice like steel, "Minseok, he can't find out about this."   
  
Yixing doesn't push, simply asks "why?"   
  
"I owe Minseok-hyung everything already. I moved in when my parents kicked me out. The apartment is his. I don't even pay rent. He wouldn't let me, that stubborn asshole. We just split the bills. I can't ask him for more."   
  
"What about anyone else?"   
  
"They would tell him," Jongdae tangles his hands in his hair and tugs, "I—I just really don't want anyone to know. Please don't say anything."   
  
The look on Jongdae's face is so pleading, so desperate that Yixing couldn't tell anyone even if he wanted to.

 

"Okay," Yixing says reluctantly and Jongdae's shoulders immediately slump in relief, “Okay, we’re gonna find you a job. We’re going to do whatever we need to. We’ll fix this, okay? I’m here for you.”

 

Jongdae feels the telltale sting in the back of his eyes at the earnest expression on Yixing’s face and a knot forms in his throat, “Okay.”

 

This time it’s Jongdae who initiates the embrace, wrapping his arms around Yixing’s torso and the latter reciprocates. Yixing has a comforting presence and he holds Jongdae with a tenderness, running a hand up and down the latter’s spine in an attempt to soothe him. It helps somewhat, Jongdae releasing a shaky sigh against Yixing’s skin. The urge to cry is overwhelming but the way Jongdae is engulfed in warmth has him believing that things will work themselves out.

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


The stress had been so overwhelming that after Yixing had calmed Jongdae down, Jongdae skipped his last two classes and went straight home. After arriving home, he crawled under his covers and promptly passed out for a solid six hours. 

 

Now, he sits there, staring at his ceiling, extremely disappointed that this afternoon hadn’t been a bad dream after all. Jongdae is at a loss. At the moment, his mind is buzzing with so many worries that he’s not sure how to even begin tackling them. Jongdae instinctively finds himself grabbing his phone and about to select Minseok’s contact but he stops short, finger hovering above the call button. He stares at it for too long, but ultimately goes to check his text messages. There are ones from Baekhyun and Chanyeol asking if he wanted to join them after classes for ice cream and another from Minseok saying that he’s going to be late for supper since he and Han are going on a date and he should be back for 9:00pm at the latest.

 

Jongdae checks the time and it’s five minutes till nine, so after apologizing to Baekhyun and Chanyeol and explaining that he fell asleep, he gets out of bed. He hadn’t even changed his clothes before falling asleep so he does so now, slipping on pyjama pants and a loose comfy t-shirt. Padding his way to the kitchen, he opens the fridge but simply stares at it blankly since the thought of eating makes his stomach churn in discomfort. Better some calories than none, he concludes and settles for some juice. The silence feels stifling so he plays some random playlist from the Bluetooth speakers mounted on the wall.

 

And that’s how Jongdae passes the next fifteen or so minutes: sitting cross-legged in the kitchen, slowly sipping on his drink and contemplating the cool grey of his walls. His mind feels like it’s fuzzy and consumed by radio-static. At one point, he zones out, eyes out of focus and it’s only when Jongdae’s name is being called for a third time that he jerks in surprise, nearly sending his glass to the floor.

 

“Hey Jongdae,” Minseok is standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder, “I said your name like three times. Didn’t you hear me?”

 

Jongdae moves his glass to a safer place near the center of the table and offers Minseok a shaky smile, “No, sorry, I was thinking too much I guess. How was your date?”

 

“It was pretty great,” Minseok sighs happily, unable to wipe off the dumb grin off his face, “We went to an Italian place in Itaewon. The food was  _ so good _ . I’m so full.” He lifts his shirt to pat his belly but his stomach looks at flat as ever, “Then, we just walked around for a while.”

 

Jongdae raises his eyebrow at Minseok, not buying it, “And by ‘walked around’, you mean made out in your car.”

 

“You caught me,” Minseok winks at the other, “But we may have done a bit of both. What about you? What did you get up to?”

 

Jongdae sighs, leaning back into his chair, “I felt a little tired so I just napped.”

 

Minseok studies him for a long time, while Jongdae keeps his eyes firmly on his cup as he drinks from it. That’s a dead giveaway, “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Jongdae shakes his head, the way he’s beginning to curl into himself practically pleading with Minseok to  _ please let it go _ , “Hyung is having a kid by the way, he called me before.”

 

Minseok narrows his eyes at Jongdae but relents, running his hand through his hair, “Noona is pregnant?”

 

“Yeah!” Jongdae says, letting his excitement over the subject distract him for a while, “They practically just found out.”

 

“That’s amazing! Do they know what it’s gonna be?”

 

“No, it’s too soon I think,” Jongdae answers and his legs are beginning to go numb in that position so he gets up to put his half-empty glass in the sink, “He’ll let us know when they find out, I’m sure.”

 

“I’ll have to find time to give him a call to congratulate him,” Minseok states, putting the styrofoam container of leftovers in the fridge and Jongdae freezes at the thought of the two of them speaking, “You can have this for lunch tomorrow if you want. I can’t have a cheat day two days in a row.”

 

When Jongdae offers no answer, his mind trying to think of ways to protest without raising suspicions, Minseok’s brows furrow in concern, “Dae, is there something bothering you?”

 

Jongdae’s shake of his head isn’t convincing anyone but Minseok knows better not to pry and offers his support in another way, “Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?”

 

And Jongdae is transported to those nights where anxieties and spiraling thoughts would keep him awake, tossing and turning, and he would tip-toe into Minseok’s room, adjacent from his own, only to find Minseok already awake, the covers lifted in silent invitation. 

 

This night isn’t much different, the small difference being that he’s the first in bed, snuggled deep in the blanket. He listens to the shower run, exhausted from the weight of the day. Not long after, it shuts off and Minseok walks in, a towel around his waist. He dresses in his usual sleeping attire and when he turns around, Jongdae is lifting the covers. Minseok doesn’t hesitate to crawl in, and Jongdae immediately latches onto him, resting his head on his chest and throwing an arm and a leg over him.

 

Minseok rests his arm around him, kissing the top of his head lovingly, “You know that if anything’s wrong, I’m here, Dae.”

 

Minseok can feel Jongdae’s smile grow against his shirt, “I know hyung.”

 

And that’s the last they speak of it, Jongdae’s breaths evening out and mouth falling open slightly and Minseok following suit shortly after.

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


A few days afterwards, Jongdae feels more level headed, the initial shock having worn off. He now realizes that he needed some time to step back to regroup and sort out his thoughts before attempting to tackle anything. 

 

“Yixing-ge,” Jongdae whispers to the other, who’s concentrating on not missing a word of their professor’s lecture. Jongdae would feel bad for distracting him if he wasn’t going to help him out afterwards. Besides, the notes are all online, but Yixing’s oral comprehension is much stronger than his reading (which still isn’t bad at all), which is why Jongdae reads the notes to him out loud after every class.

 

Yixing leans in for Jongdae to speak softly into his ear, “Come back to my house later?”

 

Yixing offers him a nod and the sweetest smile punctuated by a deep dimple that never fails to make Jongdae melt into a puddle. Jongdae tries to ignore the giddiness in his chest, refocusing his attention on the lecture. 

  
  
  


It’s the first time Yixing visits Jongdae’s apartment since he came for his birthday and it looks much different without the colourful streamers, balloons and banners covering every inch of it. The living room is spotless, the cleanliness only amplified by the stark white furniture. He follows Jongdae to the first door down the hall and when he steps into his bedroom, the only thing he can think is that it really suits Jongdae. The room is nothing too eye catching, simple actually, with pale grey walls and a double bed with a black comforter. Rather, the little details are what make it scream  _ Jongdae _ . 

 

First of all, it’s the only place in the house where Yixing sees some disorder. Not that Jongdae’s super messy, just a normal amount; some clothes thrown on the floor, papers strewn all over the desk. 

 

On said desk sits a cute little cactus and atop his bedside table is a modern record player in a pastel blue. If he keeps examining, he would find more little tidbits of personal flare. Yet, what really catches his eye is the picture board placed above his desk. Yixing takes a few steps to examine it further and is in awe at how many memories are displayed, dozens of polaroid pictures held in place by tiny wooden clothespins.

 

He doesn’t know he’s made a sound of wonder until Jongdae’s at his side, “Yeah, this is my favourite part of my room.”

 

“It’s so pretty,” Yixing comments, eyes perusing the pictures until stopping at one, recognizing the Imperial Palace in the background, “This is when you were on exchange in Beijing?”

 

“Yeah,” Jongdae confirms then points his finger to a laminated paper with the Chinese characters for Beijing,  hooked on with a clothespin too, “Everything after this is from my year on exchange. Before that was my 2nd year of high school.”

 

Yixing takes in those pictures one by one: the typical red cups with a high school party in the background, Jongdae swinging in a park in the middle of the night, and—

Yixing stops at one to see Baekhyun and Jongdae kissing rather intensely. The next is Baekhyun making a dumb kissy face at the camera. The one after that is Jongdae pressing a sweet kiss to Baekhyun’s cheek. 

 

Jongdae notices where he’s staring and clarifies, “Yeah, Baek and I dated that year but we broke up when I left for China.”

 

“And you didn’t get back together?” Yixing asks curiously and not so innocently.

 

“No,” Jongdae shook his head and shrugs, “People change. Priorities change. Sometimes you just fall out of love.”

 

“I get that completely,” Yixing hums in agreeance and questions further, “Was it hard to stay friends afterwards?”

 

And the question prompts memories of the two of them falling back together time and time again the summer before university started before the two realized that the constant back and forth wasn’t healthy and they put a stop to it. 

 

“Yeah it was really hard actually,” Jongdae admits but doesn’t want to linger on that too long, “I apparently have a thing for being friends with exes.”

 

“Really? Who else did you date?” Yixing raises a brow, interest sparked.

 

“Chanyeol. In my first year of Uni,” Jongdae says and points to the right line of pictures near the top. Sure enough, there are a multitude of snapshots with Chanyeol playing guitar, the two holding hands, etc.

 

“I actually find that really nice,” Yixing confesses and when Jongdae looks at him in confusion, he elaborates, “That you’re able to stay friends even after you broke up. It takes a certain level of maturity and self-awareness to be able to maintain something platonic after you tasted what it was like to be with someone you loved in a more romantic way. Obviously I’m not talking about the ones that ended really badly and there was cheating or something toxic. But it’s not for everyone. I think it just says a lot about you.”

 

“Oh?” Jongdae feels flustered by the serious way Yixing is looking at him, “and what does it say about me?”

 

“It says that you’re a kind sensible person that is able to set boundaries when needed,” Yixing explains with a kind smile.

 

Jongdae shakes his head with a wry smile on his face and walks away to flop down onto his bed, “That’s where you’re wrong ge, I mean sure I guess I’m nice and everything but if there’s one thing I have trouble with it’s setting boundaries.”

 

Yixing sits cautiously at the edge of the bed, unsure if it’s alright for him to be doing so without explicit permission. Jongdae warmly rolls his eyes at his misplaced politeness and pats the empty space beside him. Yixing listens, scooching closer and resting his head on the pillow.

 

When he’s settled, he asks, “What do you mean?”

 

Jongdae shuts his eyes for a moment, taking in the warm presence beside him, “I mean that I have trouble setting limits in my life. Especially in friendships I feel like I just let the other person control it, I guess? Which isn’t too much of a problem with someone like Minseok, he reads me too well. Knows when I’m getting tired or overwhelmed. But with people who can’t, I can possibly feel like I’m being stretched too thin. It doesn’t happen with everyone but it’s a possibility and it has happened before,” Jongdae rubs his hands over his face, “Ah, I don’t even know if I’m making any sense.”

 

Yixing rolls onto his side, facing Jongdae and propping his head on his hand, elbow digging into the mattress, “No, no, I understand what you’re trying to say. You let others take the lead but sometimes they don’t notice if things are too much for you.” 

 

Jongdae hums in assent, eyes studying the white of his ceiling. 

 

Yixing, instead, studies him intently, taking in the sharp line of his jaw and the natural curl to his lips, “Hey Jongdae?”

 

Jongdae turns his head at the sound of Yixing’s voice and Jongdae’s heart flutters at the proximity of their faces, “What is it?”

 

“You would…” Yixing tries to properly form his question but loses his grasp on his second language due to the other’s heavy gaze, only rendered more intense by the fan of dark lashes that curl into his cheekbones, “You would tell me, right? If I ever get too much? I know it’s not easy to have to help me along with all your school work and you have your friends too, who I’m sure you want to spend time wit—”

 

“Hey, hey, Yixing,” Jongdae shifts to mirror Yixing’s position and interrupts him with a hand over the one Yixing has placed in the small space between them, “You  _ are _ my friend. My job description is to help you with your Korean, show you around, introduce you to some people. Nowhere does it say I have to invite you to my birthday, or eat lunch with you three or four days out of five or invite you to my  _ house _ . I do these things because I want to. I do these things because I consider you a friend.”

 

Yixing looks stunned at the sudden declaration and it feels like almost all the insecurities and uncertainties in his relationship with the younger have been brushed away. Yixing swallows heavily and smiles brightly, “Okay. Okay...I believe you. Just…if you feel like our relationship overwhelms you too much, tell me okay? Promise me you’ll tell me.”

 

Jongdae grins right back, nodding his head in affirmation and offers his pinky, “I promise.”

 

Yixing takes Jongdae’s pinky in his and squeezes, “Good,” they unlink them and Yixing scrutinizes him for a few moments before softly asking: “how are you doing?”

 

“You ask me that every single day,” Jongdae teases goodnaturedly, poking Yixing’s dimple. And Yixing has, if not through text then in person. 

 

The action makes Yixing’s grin grow even larger, a laugh bubbling from his lips, but that doesn't undermine the sincerity with which he speaks the next words: “And I'll keep asking you until the answer is a lot better than ‘I'll live’ or ‘okay’.”

 

Jongdae really has no idea how to respond to that besides kissing the smile from his lips but that urge terrifies him and he doesn't even consider it an option so he just clears his throats and answers Yixing’s first question, “I'm better? Somewhat?”

 

“You don't sound sure of that,” Yixing states, a concerned crease between his brows.

  
Jongdae sighs, rolling back onto his back, “I am. I mean I felt really shitty the past few days and really out of it too. I still do kinda do but my head feels  _ clearer _ ."   
  
" That's good, it's an improvement," Yixing says gladly, "do you want to start thinking of what you can do?"   
  
"I need to save and make money," Jongdae easily concludes, "That's a no brainer."   
  
"How about we make a list of your new expenses now that you don't have your brothers help? Then cut out expenses you don't need like ordering takeout? Once we have a clear amount you need to reach, we can figure out the minimum amount of hours you need to work and all that other fun stuff, " Yixing suggests and it's such an amazing suggestion; Jongdae honestly doesn't know what he would do without him. Yixing just grew, and keeps growing, on him, has slipped his way into his heart and made himself at home.   
  
"You're amazing," The words just fall from Jongdae's tongue of their own volition, but Jongdae doesn't regret them, not when Yixing responds with a pretty flush on his cheeks and an even prettier smile that makes Jongdae fall the slightest bit in love.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really late ;; and I’m so sorry. My life is terrible at the moment. But this won’t be dropped....the updates will simply be more delayed. I’m sorry again


End file.
